


The Surface of a Hidden Secret

by Erissur



Series: The Crest of Merlin [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Blood, Druids, Emotional Manipulation, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magic, Merlin - Freeform, Original Character(s), Politics, Romance, cursing, slowburn, veeery slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-07-29 12:48:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 30,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16264526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erissur/pseuds/Erissur
Summary: Five years after the abrupt ending of his Hogwarts career, Virgil finally has the chance to rejoin the Wizarding world. The question though is, at what cost?A storm is brewing.Politics are everything these days, and the world is changing.There are new responsibilites on his shoulders that comes with the burden of his bloodline.But all Virgil wants is to find his friends again.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sooooo excited to give you guys this chapter, after how you received the first part of The Crest of Merlin!  
> Please, if you haven't read the first part go read that before you start this one.  
> It will only confuse you if you don't, since I've expanded quite a bit on the worldbuilding of Harry Potter.
> 
> Please give me comments, I live for that!
> 
> Oh, and if you want to follow the series, I write about my work with this on my tumblr; @thestoryoferissur.  
> So go follow me there!
> 
> Enjoy this chapter!

“… Political agenda at the 45th Wizarding Olympian Games?”

“Well David, I can say as much that all international events have a broad impact in regards of getting media attention, and what better time to push the idea of a world of equality and the unison between the magical community and the muggle society, than at such a massive event as the Olympian? I truly believe that the fact that the Equality Party has stated that their front figures, Amhar Enright and Dolothea Thompson, will be at the sports event, is a well-planned move on behalf of the Party.”

“I can’t say that I’m not curious about this, the party has gained a great mass of followers over the last five years since its founding. I’m excited to see how they will use the Games as a symbol in the political sphere.”

“Mr. Enright will surely bring a speech that’s for sure.”

“He’s good at that.”

“Very, he’ll surely be able to spin something out of this. Personally I always look forward to his speeches, they’re very inspiring.”

“That they are! And with that dear listeners, this round of the Political Talk has ended. The opening ceremony of the Wizarding Olympian Games will start in Rome, Italy on Saturday, where the Wizarding world will unite in a time of sharing, happiness and sport! Thank you so much for coming to talk Mr. Anderson.”

“My pleasure.”

“Coming up, the next song is “Cursed Love” by The Devil Within.”

 

The low base of the intro started strumming and the political debate he had been listening to for the last half hour ended as the song began its dramatic notes and thundering beats.

The water surrounded his body with lazy waves as Periwinkle swam around him in slow circles, her blue-grey scales shining in the light coming from the crystals that roamed all over the grand cave. The walls were dipped in blue and yellow lights that darkened as the shadows overtook every nook, cranny and crevice.

His eyes had gotten used to the dim underground room, where the sun never shone, and his head cleared of angry thoughts and feelings of frustration that came with being locked up in the druidic village of Amesbury.  
Five years.

Virgil snorted to himself, taking in a deep breath to float better in the little lake that ebbed and flowed in between small islands of rocks and crystals.  
Five fucking years and he was still stuck here.

Drops of water was flicked off his left hand as he moved it up over his face to inspect the spidery webbed, white lines that crisscrossed over his already pale skin in scars that reminded him of the lightning he was learning to control, and the wand that had splintered because of his pure rage reacting on instinct instead of using his power with logic.

The rage and hurt had been well-founded, don’t get him wrong, but nothing good came of that night.

The gleaming silver on his ring finger caught his eye and he glared silently at it.

The hawk could look like it was watching him, ready to take flight and snitch on him any second, but it never moved. The crest nothing more than a symbol of his bloodline that had cursed him with a life upon a pedestal. No more than a symbol of a greater being that was no longer even alive.

A harsh snort sprayed water unto his face and Periwinkle’s ice-blue eyes watched him with slit pupils as he turned to look at her, half of his face moving to lay beneath the surface and his hair shifting and pulling in the light movements of the water.

“What is it girl?”

The wyrm dragon circled him once, twice, snorting playfully all the while, water spraying through her nostrils in good fun.

Her body was sleek and long, her only two legs swimming with strong strokes as her tail slithered like a snake behind her.

He could not help the smile that spread out on his face, as she let him pull briefly at one of her protruding spines, the fins that were connected to them, feeling like leather and moving easily with the movements of his hand, before she dived underneath his form and coming up on his other side.

“Where’s Marigold?”

Periwinkle turned her head sharply toward one of the outcroppings where the entrance to a smaller tunnel had been dug by the dragons. He moved his legs beneath him to start treading in the water, looking toward the same tunnel as the wyrm was snorting at loudly, the noise echoing in the cave.

Virgil whistled a high tone for the other dragon to come out but managed in getting Periwinkle to turn around and headbutt him with flaring nostrils and excited chipping sounds. She almost pushed him under water when one of her clawed feet came to rest heavily on his shoulder.

“Get off me you big baby!” he laughed, nudging her head away which only made her think that they were playing now and began nudging back gently.

A soft chuffing sound echoed from within the tunnel and Virgil turned to face the illuminating, golden eyes that look back at them from the shadows.

“Come here girl” he tried calling, getting a tiny chirp back from the introverted dragon. They were both his favorites, but Marigold was someone special. Even though he could not see her clearly at the moment, since she was a bit sick and did not want to leave the comfort of her burrow, he knew her blood-red and golden spines were as beautiful as ever.

Her colors always reminded him of a certain Gryffindor who had been wearing them proudly.

But it was a long time ago.

Periwinkle had forgotten all about him and had decided to climb the stone walls to stick her head into the tunnel, chirping and snorting for attention from the red and golden wyrm.

The younger dragon had him somewhat concerned. She had always been a fiery and a bit temperamental being but the last couple of weeks she had almost seemed muted. Though she was older than him by three years, she was still not much more than a dragonling, somewhere in between the puppy years and adulthood.

He came down to visit the dragons every day, and every time remembered to bring gifts of either fish or sheep. He knew that Marigold liked those types of meat, but she had not been eating well.

Virgil swam to the cliff side and began slowly ascending the cold wall, scraping his bare knees on the surface, but climbed steadily until he was sat next to the tunnel opening and peering inside the hole, with Periwinkle snorting next to him.

Marigold was sticking her snout out toward him but moved too slowly for his liking. Her scales were too cold to. He frowned slightly but kept petting her, watching as she closed her eyes and rested her head back down on the ground.

“We have to figure this out Mari” he told her, gripping one of her horns and tugging gently, before going back to petting her face. “It’s going to be okay soon, maybe it’s just a bug or something. A dragon bug.”

She looked skeptical, as much as a dragon could with its hardened scales, and made a big snort in defiance. Snot and mucus flying from her nostrils and landing all over his naked chest.

Virgil quickly retracted his hand in disgust, both really wanting to rub the fluids off him, but at the same time not really wanting to touch it any further. He glowered down at Marigold, who apparently had decided to go back to sleep.

“You disgusting little- “  
“Virgil!”

He almost decided on the fly to crawl into the burrow to join the younger dragon, but he knew it was futile. It always went like this.

Someone, mainly Elethea or her son Fax would piss him off in some way, and he would end up seeking some peace and quiet in the crystal cave and its mile-long tunnel systems underneath Stonehenge. Most of the time they would aggravate him by pointing out the ‘duties of Merlin’ as if he was responsible for what someone in his family long ago had achieved and burdened his bloodline with.

If it was not about pushing his magic to its supposedly potential, which it did not have, or about getting the ‘Mark of Emrys’ that would distinguish him further from the people around him, with some flashy tattoo on his right shoulder that would show his druidic, royal bloodline or whatever, they were on about how important it was for him to stay close to the clan since everywhere else was too dangerous for him.

And then, as it happened now, his mentor Kace, would go on her weekly, if not recently daily, search of him. And she unfortunately knew all of his hiding places.

“I can see you from here Virgil, get down.”

He really should find other hiding spots than the caves and the grassy fields surrounding the area.

“Okay, okay. I’m coming” he murmured while climbing down backwards with Periwinkle following his every move from the sidelines, snorting him in the face as she stretched her neck as far as it could go to reach him.

“Quit it you baby.”

She only huffed at him, only stopping when he let himself fall the rest of the way into the water and began swimming to the other end where Kace was stood crouched waiting, fumbling a bit with the buttons of his radio, making the poppy melody disappear into silence and drip-droppings of water from the cave ceiling.

“You should be more careful with this” she told him in her low voice. “What if Elethea discovered your precious radio shows?”

Virgil huffed, using his upper body strength to heave himself up from the water and sit on the outcropping, taking the radio from her dark-skinned hands, adjusting a bit on the frequencies she had been messing with.

“Elethea never comes down to the dragon’s lair, it’s too far into the cave systems for her puny old lady legs.”

He could feel her disapproving frown upon the back of his head, her heterochromia eyes of brown and blue making up a disturbing glare when she really went for it.

“Virgil.”

“I know, I know. I didn’t mean to be mean.”

Cloth was thrown over his head and he quickly pulled it off to see a faded green towel in his hands. He started drying off his hair roughly, making it stand up in all directions. Kace sat down by his side, his clothes held lazily in her grip. He glanced up at her, seeing her vigilant sight set upon the dragons on the opposite cliff wall, where Marigold had finally been bullied out of her burrow by Periwinkle.

Kace was older than him. She had been close friends with his mother, Miriam, when she had come to study under Elethea in the healing arts and Kace had just arrived from Egypt to visit an old friend who lived in the Amesbury clan.

They did not talk much of that time, but from what Virgil had been able to gather from their brief conversations about the subject of her, they had been best friends and his mother had been the reason why Kace had chose to cut ties with her old clan and move across countries to live in England of all places.

He thought that it was hurting Kace to think of his mother. There must be some kind of resentment toward her because of how she chose to marry a muggle and got banished from ever contacting the druids again. There probably was some grief too. Losing friends were never easy, he could definitely attest to that.

He dapped the water droplets away from his skin, still side-eyeing her. She was a rough kind of type. A battle mage, very well-muscled and her hair buzzed off to avoid distractions and having to fix it all the time. Instead she had gotten a Celtic tattoo of a tree, with its branches stretching all over her bald head. It was kind of badass and she wore it proudly.

“Stop staring.”

She flung his clothes at him in much the same way as she had with the towel, almost making him scramble to catch it before the pieces went into the water below them.

Virgil glowered at her but stood to do as she told him to. When he had gotten his mossy colored shirt on, he saw her waiting closer by the tunnel that would lead them to the outside.

“Did you hear anything exciting today then?” she asked.

He pulled on his pants quickly, pulling on the leather belt that would keep them on his hips.

“Nothing much, they’re still talking about the Wizarding Olympus on the day after tomorrow” he told her, binding his boots carefully, the lace unfortunately easy to break.

Kace hummed noncommittally.

“Apparently there’s going to be some political happenings too, it sounded kind of interesting.”

“There’s always going to be political disputes or propaganda whenever the world is coming together” she said, frowning again.

He nodded slowly, following her out of the bigger cave and called out to the dragons in goodbye before they disappeared from sight.

“You shouldn’t be giving them names” Kace said, looking disapproving again. The dim light from the crystals making contrasts of her face.

“They have their own personalities, they should have names to their identities too” he argued.

“They’re guardians of the crystals. Not. Pets.”

“You name all of your cats!”

“They’re pets” she sighed.

“You name the strays too” he reminded her, gaining a scornful look in return.

He shrugged, not able to hide the smirk that broke out on his face. He knew he had won that round. They had this back and forth relationship, though she always had this stoic way to her personality. It was not easy cracking a smile out of her, but sometimes she got this frightening grin when she made a real morbid comment to something that really was unrelated to whatever he had been doing or talking about.

She was the person he felt closest to here, a sense of kinship, mainly because of their personalities seemingly being much the same, or the fact that both of them did not really like to be around the others too much and he had a hideout at her place too, though it had been made available to him begrudgingly.

She was his teacher, a kind of guardian or mentor and a bit of a glorified, babysitting bodyguard. That was what it felt like anyway and he was pretty sure that she thought the same as well.

“We should get Marigold checked out soon. She keeps getting worse bit by bit.”

Kace nodded quietly next to him.

They came to the surface, rain falling from the grey sky and began trekking through the golden fields surrounding the village. The air smelt of electricity and dust from the last couple of sunny weeks that was being washed away steadily.

There was not a soul out on the grassy streets between the buildings, as they returned from the caves. He could the two youngest of Elethea’s grandchildren, Makana and Ryder, looking out from one of the windows in the little house Virgil had lived in at first.

Their smiles brightened, and they waved sporadically at him. Ryder looked to be saying something, but he could not here him, choosing to point at his ear and then wave at them both instead. They passed all of the straw roof buildings easily, there only being ten or so of them, before they made it to their own houses on the outskirts, four wet cats waiting on the doorstep of Kace’s house, yowling for her to let them in and away from the rain.

They were not the only ones waiting and Virgil scowled at the figure that was leaning against his doorframe, door wide open and his Livingroom on display for all to see behind her.

Kace grabbed his shoulder and squeezed it comfortingly, giving him back the radio that she had taken with them from the cave, before walking through her garden door and up the small stone path to her door, the cats running all around her feet in one big pile of a pity party.

Virgil watched her go, feeling the rain growing colder on his skin though it did not matter much to him. If he really wanted to stay put and escape Elethea’s wrath, he could just create a dome and walk away. Find a new hiding spot and let ace catch him again later.

He would have done that if he was younger, hell, he would have done it half a year ago before he turned twenty and thereby a legal adult in the eyes of the druids. But he had learned that as persistent and stubborn as he himself could be, Elethea could be all that and ten times more if she really wanted to.

He grasped his radio tighter, wishing that they had left it back at the cave.

Elethea stepped away from the doorway and walked further into his home, leaving him to either join her or keep standing in the rain. They both knew what was going to happen and he groaned to the sky at that.

Moments later, they were sat around his coffee table, hot cocoa in hands that she had made while waiting for him to return. She sat in the patched-up arm chair, that he had gotten from one of the other elders, Mog Ruith, when he moved in here, and he had placed himself on the equally old sofa that the druids had procured for him.

They sat in silence, Virgil looking toward his front door as if wanting to escape again. The radio had been sat upon the shelf that hung above the unlit fireplace, right next to the small wooden chest with the flowery patterns that he had been gifted from his late grandmother who had died almost six years ago.

The radio was unusually silent. Normally he would have let it play, but now that Elethea was in his home and knew that he had it, he thought that maybe it would be a bit inconsiderate toward her.  
He leaned back to rest his head and closed his eyes, hands relaxed in his lap.

“Where did you get it?”

He did not open his eyes, only choosing to shrug at her question. She did not need to know.

There was a long-drawn-out sigh.

“We are not trying to suffocate you here Virgil, we are protecting the legacy and the responsibility that your forefather left us and- “

“Doesn’t feel like it.”

“Excuse me?”

He was so tired of all of this bullshit. They never listened to him even though he clearly outranked them by A LOT, if how they described who he was in their eyes, or who he was supposed to be anyway.

He leaned his head to the side and looked back at Elethea, who was watching him with a furrowed brow, probably not getting what he was saying.

“It doesn’t feel like I’m part of this great legacy or have this ‘responsibility’ you keep drilling into my head that I should have. I get why you’re protecting me, and I also get why I had to come here to learn about the druidic ways and my powers, since I didn’t get to train those at Ynes Môn. But I’m not a kid anymore and I’ve gotten a good grasp on this” he said, moving a hand up from his lap and letting lightning dance across the scarred skin without any effort being made.

“If I’m supposed to be this legacy of Emrys and work upon his legacy and have the same responsibility to the world that he had, then what am I doing here? Why am I not allowed to leave or even hear about what is happening outside of the druidic society? Or, hell, even outside of this clan! I know next to nothing! If I didn’t have that” he pointed toward the radio. “Then I would be as clueless about the world, as the leaf is about the tree!”

Elethea’s frown grew and her mouth turned downward.

They had talked about this many, many time over the course of the last five years that he had lived there. Before he turned twenty they could at least have some decent conversations too, but now he not only felt disrespected but also like they never planned for him to leave the nest.

It was jarring how angry he felt. He left everything when he went with her back then, heartbroken and confused. It felt like they took who he was and shoved a new identity on him, labeled him as a precious, old treasure and left behind any other thought of what he wanted or wished.

He wanted to be taught about his power, so he could protect his friends from himself. He wanted to go back to their world to see them again. He wanted Roman to get his memories back.

Some wishes could never come true. But others he would be damned if he did not at least try.

He sat up straight, flashing his eyes at her. Knowing that the golden specks he got from his trip to Avalon would light up terrifyingly.

“Let me back into the world.”

She straightening her back and regarded him with serious eyes. A face that was unreadable.

“We have discussed this- “

“If you want me to become a protector and a bridge to the worlds like Emrys was, then, you have to let me out!” he interrupted loudly. “Teach me about the outside! Teach me about the people, the cultures! I don’t care, I just want to live in it!”

His hand came down so hard unto the coffee table, that his cocoa spilled all over and down unto the spotty carpet. He cursed lowly and stood to get a towel for the mess he had made himself. He had not meant to lose his temper like that, but Elethea knew how to grate on his frustration.

Why could she not see? Why could she not understand what he wanted her to?

The rain was falling in thick lines like the open faucet in his sink. He dried off the towel quickly, closing for the water, before walking back through the door to the Livingroom again, quickly getting on his knees to get the stupid cocoa out of his stupid carpet.

Elethea was silent the whole time. Regarding him, he knew.

“What do you propose then?”

He stopped scrubbing, trying to figure out whether he had truly heard that or not. After a bit of silence, he glanced slowly up at his elder. Elethea was sitting with her head in a hand and was looking at him with tired eyes.

“If you want to join the outside world again, there has to be a better reason than for you to go on adventures or leave and not come back.” She sighed, and he swallowed his indignant protests. “I can hear that you have been listening to me in regards of your responsibilities, but whether it is truly how you feel or if you are only echoing what I have been saying, I do not know.”

She sat forward in her chair, looking fierce and not like someone to cross.

“You have to take this seriously, otherwise I will not let you leave for another year or five, I do not really care, we are here to protect you and that means we even protect you from yourself.”

“You’re not making any sense” he breathed out, heart hammering in his chest.

Elethea stood up, brushing off her robes and sitting her empty cup unto the coffee table.

“I will speak with the elders of the clan and I will tell you of our decision tomorrow.”

And with that she was gone, leaving him behind in the silent cottage, rain pattering on the roof and drops clicking on his windows.

 

He was happy that it sounded like she was changing her mind, but he could not help but think of how he managed to persuade her. He had talked big before, gotten angry, thrown hissy fits and left her behind in the dust to go sulk in the caves or in someone’s flowerbed in a yard somewhere.

So why had she suddenly changed her view this drastically? She had done a complete one eighty on him and his mind had difficulty in keeping up.

He was so confused. Exhilarated but very confused.

He wondered what the terms could be for him to actually start living. Would it be much the same as it was now, only with a few excursions to the outside world? Would they let him know stuff, news, following up on the political world?  
Contact his friends?

He scratched his head, ruffling his shorter hair. Not that he could not contact at least one of them, he just… he was not ready to answer the mental messages that had come with perfect intervals throughout the years. That is until four months ago, they had suddenly stopped coming each date of the first of the month. It worried him.

What if something had happened to Logan? Was he mad? Had he given up on him? Was… had he died, and Virgil had not bothered looking into it?

He needed to get out. He needed to know, even he had to advocate the druidic way of life to the rest of the world and step up as the heir of Merlin. Even just letting him see them once, just knowing that they were okay and did not need him, would be enough. Then he could stay here forever and be somewhat comfortable with that fact.

But he had made a promise to return, and he had to keep that promise. He had not told them if he would return permanently after all.

“- Chest strike Virgil, guards up!”

His hands flew up to deflect the roaring flames upon an air tight shield he conjured, letting the flaming inferno lick terrifyingly on the compressed wind, until they disappeared in one swift move that revealed Kace attacking with a high kick, her whole leg blinding him with the light she created.

He stepped back on his left foot to keep his balance, and let his arm take the brunt of her force, the light heating his skin painfully, before she swung around easily deflecting the blow of magic that should have made her fall several feet through the air.  
She threw a blinding punch, that took his surprised face with it, and down he went.

He had not even had time to comprehend her last move, before he felt the mud soak his dark training clothing, the summer rain still going strong and dripping into his eyes in a drizzle. The rain drops hurt his cheek, the one he had just gotten punched the literal light out of off. Or rather into.

Virgil touched it gently with a bandaged covered hand, he winced. Yea, it was definitely scorched at little, it would certainly bruise later.

“When I told you to get your head into the training, I didn’t mean for you to go get lost in there!”

She was standing above him, her head held proudly and looking down her nose at him, a haughty eyebrow standing high and sharp, almost saying out loud that he was a complete idiot. Virgil blanched for a second, then scowled at the comment, leaning back on his elbows. His sleeves were getting flooded by the dirty water that gathered around his cold arms.

“You burned me!”

“Because you were being stupid! You could easily have deflected that if you were actually paying attention to the training session, you agreed to have at midday in the first place” she scolded him, gesturing for him to get up. “Again, and don’t slack off. I have better things to do than see your abilities regress embarrassingly quickly.”

He stood up slowly, maybe moving deliberately sluggish on purpose just to see Kace’s eye twitch with annoyance by the childish display of revolt.

“Stop pissing on my patience.”

“Colorful” he remarked casually as he stepped back into the form. Left foot forward and hands up and ready for any attack. He caught Kace’s annoyed gaze before him and winked cheekily back at her. Maybe he was pushing too much, but this was the only way he knew how to keep his thoughts from going back to wondering about Elethea and her decisions.

He was happy that Kace kept pulling at him and ordering him to get it together, otherwise he could be sitting in a darkened corner, or walk a line in his floor as he mulled over every which way the later conversation could go.

“Focus!”

A blast of fire grazed his ear, when he only just managed to dodge to the side properly before it had hit his face. His heart was pounding with adrenaline in his chest with the realization that, yes, he had pushed her too far, and yes, he was still away in his bobble apparently.

They kept training for a while, stepping around each other and writhing their bodies in a sort of dance sequence of magical attacks. Fire and lightning clashed and grazed and bit at their skin in the first few rounds, until his teacher told him to change up his routine and he used water-based attacks, with the wind still acting as his shields.

When they trained with his elemental powers, he was not supposed to use the verbal spells she, and also Elethea, had been teaching him ever since he arrived at the clan.

It was difficult. He had to use his mind at all times, concentrate on her every movement and control everyone of his own. It often took a toll on him if they were training for hours and he could feel it all the way into his bones, when he would lay down to sleep in the night. The magic that would course through him with every breath, felt even bigger, brighter, than it would if he was not thinking of using it for attacks and defenses specifically. It felt hotter, like a shock that kept zooming through every blood lane in his body, but in an exhilarating way. He felt alive in every second he unleashed it, powerful, but the second afterwards the drain on his muscles would double each time, until he would find himself on his knees in the dirt, not able to give anymore.

He was bent over with his forearms and face in the mud, panting the life back into his body in wheezing breathes, lungs caught on fire and muscles shaking too much for him to stand again.

“It’s pitiful Virgil, you could’ve kept going for at least half an hour more” he heard Kace tell him from above. He tried to wheeze out an indignant comment about him damn well knowing his own strengths and weaknesses and that they had already been going at it for what felt like hours, but his lungs would not cooperate, and his throat kept closing in with the moisture of his spit having been dried away with each breath.

He clenched his casting hand instead. It hurt and made him focus on evening out his breathing instead. The lightning scars moved with his skin, as he kept clenching and unclenching, trying to get life back into the limp muscles of his hand. He had overused it again. It happened all too often, and he had to massage out the pain with a special lotion he got from Elethea’s healing room.

A hand circled his upper arm and Virgil was pulled from the mood to stand shakily on his feet. He winced as his soles placed carefully underneath him, already too sore for him wanting to stand for long. A warm bath and a nap would be nice.

Kace shoved her hands roughly into his face, dusting off the mud from the tip of his nose and his forehead, though Virgil could feel how it was getting smeared further around instead, before moving to take a look at his hand.

Her motley colored eyes were set with determination and he began waving her off, grimacing as he felt the wet dirt move down and over his lips, making him hurriedly dry it off himself and quickly turning away, pulling his hand out of her grasp.

“I think I’m good Kace, I can handle a bit of muck.”

His left hand shook each time he moved it and he ended up hiding it away in the heat of his armpit instead of waving it around his face. He just needed to relax.

A breath in. a breath out.

He turned around, his back straight and a smirk playing on his lips.

She was regarding him with a blank look, but her hands were sat on her hips and her head held high. Clearly she did not take to any of his bullshit, but then again she never really had.

“Your mother always did that little ritual. Made that stupid face when she hid things” she told him lowly. “Clearly you didn’t take from your father in that regard.”

A drop of water landed on his eyelid, making him blink.

“My father?”

They rarely talked about his mother.

They never talked about his father.

Kace nodded slowly, looking to the side and up. Closing her eyes as the water hit her face gently.

“I went with Miriam to Amesbury a couple of times” she started, voice sounding far away. Virgil stepped closer unconsciously. “I saw when he first caught her eye, but we never talked about him. We both knew it couldn’t happen.”

She opened her eyes, a deep frown set all of the sudden.

“I think his name was Vincent.”

Virgil did not know if he wanted to ask further questions, if he wanted to know more about his muggle parent. The one who had ruined everything. He felt his heart clench and took a deep breath, looking down at his hurting hand.

He knew more of his mother, of course his grandmother had not been completely quiet about her daughter, but she had not been meant to be mentioned because of her status as an outcast. He knew her knew, knew she had wanted to become a healer and that was why she had moved to study under Elethea in the Amesbury clan, when she had been around his age.

He had seen a couple of pictures, watched her face for all details so he could always remember the black smooth hair he had inherited from her, and the beautiful blue eyes that he had not. He had her somewhat upturned nose and the high cheekbones with the feminine facial form.

But the grey of his eyes must have been from his muggle father. The sharp chin, the small eyebrows, maybe even his wide shoulders and lean body stature, his slouching nature or maybe even his long fingers.

He winced when he felt his casting hand clench hard and he quickly let up the pressure upon his muscles. It was stupid anyway. That side of him was dead, no one would ever be able to tell him about his muggle side, so why should he bother?

An arm came around his shoulders and he was guided off the muddy field, clutching his hand to his chest all the while and an ugly scowl on his face.

“Maybe we should get you a brace of some kind” Kace said, helping him down a wet slope on his shaky legs. “Something that can help make sure you’re not straining your muscles when you fight.”

“It’s not just when we train” he scoffed. “It’s every time I use my magic excessively, it’s like my hand can’t handle the magic anymore. Besides, what kind of brace can help against my own magic? It’s not exactly a normal muscle strain I get.”

They walked in silence. Kace thankfully dropping the subject again and deciding to let him walk and stew in his own my instead, though he did not particularly think of anything. He did not want to. On one side he was confused and angered about the very sudden mentioning of his father and on the other side, he was embarrassed and annoyed with his own shortcomings and weakness.

He was supposed to be this relative to an all-powerful being, with an ounce of the all-powerful magic too, but he could not even maintain a training regime of two hours a day, without needing a long break and some stupid lotion for his stupid body.  
When they arrived in the village, the five elders were standing underneath the roof of the community building. Waiting.

Kace slipped her arm off him and he stood up straighter, readying himself and his racing heart for the judgement. He quickly stepped closer, creating a small dome over his head, to make the rain surge around him instead of splattering strands off his wet hair into his eyes.

Elethea stood forward.

“Virgil-” she started, before pausing and taking a breath.

“My Lord. As I told you yesterday I have conferred with the rest of the elders of the clan, and we have come to a decision.”

Please for the love of Merlin, just get on with it.

“We have come to the realization that we perhaps have made us selves to much into your protectors, rather than your educators and the people that were meant to support and guide you to your destination. We are druids, and we teach peace and healing among other things, and we were meant to teach you that as well, as you are the one standing between worlds” she told him gravely. “We have- “she stopped herself, bracing.

“I have been wrong. And perhaps you are right about crossing into the wizarding world… as well as the muggle- “

“Now hold on, I didn’t say the muggle- “he tried telling her.

“The druids are sending ambassadors from across the world, to the Wizarding Olympian Games tomorrow, and we believe that this would be a prime time for the heir of Emrys to make an appearance to the rest of the druidic society.”  
His protests disappeared in a breath.

Elethea regarded him with a stern look.

“We are sending a small band of guardians with you as well” she looked to Kace, standing a step behind him. “That will be Kace, Fax, Morvan and Böli.”

Kace nodded in acknowledgement to the order.

Elethea turned to him again, waiting for him to speak up for a moment, before finalizing the meeting.

“Perceive this as a test run Virgil. You will be going as an ambassador of the druids, a lord of our kind and an heir to the Emrys name and titles, remember that well. You will be leaving at dawn.”

 

He could not believe it. He could not believe it!

The same line of thought and the constant feeling of a weird mixture of nervousness, dread and excitement, had followed him for the rest of the day and long into the night, when he really should be asleep if he wanted to be well rested for the next morning.  
When he got the news and it finally dawned on him, standing there in the rain and his dome evaporating the second his mind blanked in surprise.

When Kace had guided him home and found the lotion in his messy bathroom for him, telling him to eat a healthy meal and then leaving him to himself.

When he sat down to listen to the news on his radio, hearing about the sports event he would be attending tomorrow.

When he gazed out into the fields outside of his bedroom window, covered in the lights of the sunset.

When he had laid down in bed to rest but could not.

He could not believe it, he was getting out of there. He had fought for this since what felt like forever, and the whole suddenness of getting the permission to go was such a world shift, he did not know which step to take if he did not want to fall on his ass.

Virgil shifted in his bed, drawing the light blanket further over him and look out at the moon that shone bright, stripes of white into his dark bedroom. Tomorrow he would be going out into the world again, away from the monotone prison life had he endured for years. Tomorrow he would see wizards and witches alike, celebrating the international wizarding society together.

He could not help but grin, giddiness breaking out through squealing puffs of air.

It was really happening. He could not believe this! He wished that he could see the others as well, maybe he would be allowed another time if he behaved as Elethea had told him to. Maybe if all went well, he could take a trip to visit each of them.  
He could just imagine Patton’s big grin and Logan’s blank look being overshadowed by the surprise and happiness on his face. He could imagine Roman’s larger than life laughter and him coming to spin him around and-

Virgil sat up quickly, looking away from the light and squeezing his eyes tight, smile long gone.

Idiot.

He sighed and laid back down again, facing away from the window. There was no reason to get ahead of himself, just get through tomorrow, enjoy what freedom he could have between doing his job, and then see what would happen afterwards.  
Virgil nosed his pillow, almost certain that he could smell the mint that had always mingled with Roman’s own scent. He felt his throat cramp and swallowed a lump. Gods, how he missed him still.

He missed them all so much it was painful. He had friends here, people were nice to him when he did not act as a brat, but Patton and Logan and… Roman, even Jake, they had all been there for him through his toughest time and he had thanked them all by leaving.

The pull of the mental link with Logan was strong in that moment. He could feel himself slipping, wanting to make contact for the first time in over five years. Just to check on him, maybe tell him about tomorrow. Just to talk.

But what if tomorrow would be the only time he would ever be released? What if he messed up so bad that the druidic community would see him as the biggest embarrassment in a millennia and they could not let him go outside again?

He could not do that to Logan. He could not do that to any of them, because he knew that Logan would explain everything to the others as quick and efficient afterwards. No. he would keep the news a little longer, see how it would go tomorrow and then contact the former Ravenclaw if he got the permission to keep his ambassador post and move between the societies.

When he knew for sure, he would tell him.

He would contact him when the time was right, and he would look forward to seeing them again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm putting together a playlist for the story, where a new song will be added with each chapter.
> 
> Playlist:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pEFxfVyz4Uc&list=PLFZqzIR8tuAxbiwBBD35aOqMMxB7A8IwW


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait guys, but here is the second chapter! (finally!)

The banging of his front door smashing up against the wall of his entryway, almost made Virgil drop his freshly made pot of coffee. It was too early in the morning for working up his anxious side and the well of adrenaline that was being pumped through his stressing veins.

The sun was not even up yet, only just peeking up over the horizon of the golden lit fields.

He took a deep, calming breath and put the pot down on the counter with shaking hands. Guess he did not need the coffee to wake up now, he thought, turning around to see the visitors he knew would arrive, but did they have to be so loud?

Kace had sat down in his sofa, closing her eyes and letting her head tilt back to rest for a second. He knew it had not been her slamming with his door, she was more like a cat in that regard, moving silently through the day and only making sounds when she wanted to be heard.

No, the one who had almost busted the door of its hinges was the big, olive-skinned man with the short cropped black hair and green eyes.

Fax, in all his glory and fancy, traditional druid robes, was moving toward Virgil with a bundle of white, dark and green clothing in his arms.

Virgil eyed it warily. He of course knew that he was supposed to be an ambassador today and the next couple of days, and therefore probably should dress more nicely than on average, but he had hoped that his favorite black hoodie and dark trousers would have been enough.

The bundle was laid prettily upon his counter, far way from the coffee that trickled down the side of the pot.

The broad man, father of three, son of Elethea, and probably coming leader of the clan of Amesbury, took out the distant grey shirt, that turned out to be a shining long tunic, with slit going up to the middle of its sides, to make it easier to walk around in. it had thick, gold lined the edges of the bottom and a sun kissed gold on the inside.

It was too fancy to be something a druid would wear. He would stand out and he quickly pointed that out.

“That’s like something from the middle ages!”

Fax gave him a deadpanned look and brushed off some imaginary dust from the shining shirt. Virgil eyed him incredulously back.

“I’m not wearing that!”

The older man scoffed at him, clearly not listening to someone half his age, that had lived under his roof as part of his herd of children before he moved out. It apparently did not matter that Virgil was supposed to be his lord or something. Have some power to throw around.

“Put it on Virgil. You’re not leaving the village before you do, and I’m a very patient man.”

It was true. That man had a scary amount of waiting ability. He had wasted a lot of his best stubbornness and raging material on that guy.

He went to the bathroom, bundle of clothing thrown haphazardly over a shoulder in the process. It was way out of the league his own fashion sense usually moved.

The shadowy colored leggings were tight all around, the dark leather boots clinging to his calves snuggly and moved despite that, easily with each little shift he made. The tunic clung to his chest and thin, muscled arms, a pale green stretchy plate covering his wrists and most of his hands, ending at his fingers.

It was pretty, it suited him. But man, why did he have to feel so out of place? He was standing alone in his own bathroom, dressed up as fake royalty as if he was celebrating Halloween, and was ready to go trick or treating and dazzle everyone with his presence.

This was nowhere near him.

He eyed the sea green cloak with the gold clasp, that stood out brilliantly on the pearly counter.

It was so not him.

He pulled the shoulder bag he had packed the night before, from the entryway and closed the front door with a click, remembering to touch the different flower pots beside his door, just to make it easier to remember that he had, in fact, locked the door.

“Boy, your hair! You can’t go like that!”

Rough hands were in his dark locks in an instant, pushing back his bangs to reveal his very pale forehead for the whole world to see.

He tried shoving them away, but one hand remained with a tight grip and the other conjured some kind of cream in a clay box, that smelled unmistakably like flowers.

“Hold still!”

Morvan the bastard. He had known the guy from Ynes Môn too, back when he was a little kid, before he had moved away to join the Amesbury clan to get married with a druid from here. He was only twelve years his senior, which may seem as much but with almost every other adult being around the forties and fifties, he was still young.

He had freckles everywhere, not just a small sprinkle across the nose bridge. They were everywhere, if he had been born a dog he would have been a pride example of a dalmatian. He had fierce red, curly hair that waved longingly with the lithe morning breeze, and crooked teeth that stood out in an ever-present grin.

Virgil winced, when the crème, what he found was hair wax, was pulling his hair back. Slicked and perfect.

“You big baby” teased the redhead, checking if everything was in place and stepped back when he finally gave a satisfied nod.

“Oh, shut up” he mumbled back, as he finally could move away from the moron and walk up to the rest of the group that was waiting for them to finish. He almost moved to touch his well-produced hair because of how it pulled at his skin but managed to stop himself in time before he ruined it.

They were all clad in the traditional, white robes. The moss colored waist belts and the triskelion that was sown into the chests, showed the origin of the clan they were living with.

Kace looked dead on her feet, almost slouching inwards, but still listening intently to the married couple of Fax and Böli, that chattered and snickered together like a couple of lovesick teenagers. They had always been like that.

Böli looked up with a warm smile, her dark eyes lighting up in excitement.

“Are we ready to go?” she asked, which he answered with a nod and a small smile. He could not help it; her cheery attitude had always been contagious.

She reminded him of an older and calmer version of Patton.

“I think we are. Everyone seems presentable and our precious cargo has gotten his better percentage out of the right side of the bed” Morvan told dem, raising his hand in an energetic fist pump. “Italy here we come!”

Virgil rolled his eyes good-naturedly. How embarrassing.

They gathered together in a small circle, clasping hands and closing their eyes. Virgil felt the wind take hold in his clothes, the cape billowing behind him and his hair wobbling on the top of his head but never ruining the style.

Spring colored light lit up behind his eyelids and the feeling of his stomach-turning upside down in one great lift took hold, as his power strained against the whiplash coming from the magic of the teleportation as the group took off, leaving behind the familiar house of his in the clan of Amesbury, travelling to the planes of the newly conjured Olympian city near Rome.

The sun gave the sky a rose shine mixed with golden clouds in between the streaks of the blue of the universe. Tall sandy buildings with flat roofs and doorways formed in bows, surrounded the giant square their travel destination had been planned to end at. Signs were flowing with swirling letters, gently in the air at the designated spots for different countries to enter when travelling, and a giant granite fountain stood in the middle, forming a circle made of wizards and witches from the different continents, uniting their wands in the middle with a spring of water.

Guards were standing by each sign, ready to welcome the foreign visitors to Italy.

There were so many people, it made him dizzy watching them all.

A guard wearing dark robes and the flag of Italy on the front of the hat she wore, walked over to their group and bowed quickly, conjuring a checking list and a hoopoe feather quill, ready to scribble.

“My ladies, gentlemen” she greeted, accent thick. “Welcome to Italy. Can I have your names and titles please?”

Böli stepped forward with a kind smile and quickly rattled off their names and the fact that they were all ambassadors of all the druidic clans of Great Britain. This surprised Virgil.

The quill scribbled hastily on the parchment and disappeared with a cloud of red smoke. The guard gave them a bright smile and pointed to a collection of people green and red robes, that were holding up signs and turning them to every which side, making sure that everyone could get a glimpse of the writings.

“You may now enter the Olympian City! The Olympic committee division of Rome have arranged guides for politicians and other celebrities, that will guide you to where you will be staying and give you a tour if you would like. Welcome to Rome” she told them, before bowing yet again and stepping over to another group.

“Tutte le strade portano a Roma!” Morvan yelled after her, but to no avail.

Virgil clasped a hand over his mouth in an effort to stop the stretching of a smile, when Kace muttered about Morvan being an embarrassment to have fluttering around as if they were on a flirty vacation.

The group quickly found their guide, a middle-aged woman with a weatherworn face and kind dark eyes. She held up their sign until they were all ready to go, before she let it burn away with a whispered spell of “ _Convivae Accepimus”_ in flames the color of Italy.

 

 

The trip did not take long, but Virgil had time to wonder about the marvelous architecture of the buildings and pathway bridges that criss crossed each other far above the main street they were following.

Water followed the cobblestone pavement on both sides of the street, trickling through the air with its soundwaves of calm pleasure. All kinds of colorful flags billowed lazily on thin air above them, as far as Virgil could see. Italy, Japan, Argentina, Cuba, Tanzania, India, Ghana, Denmark, France, Australia. Every flag imaginable, some he had never even seen before too.

The guide kept a steady stream of small talk, which he gladly let the others handle. Kace next to him, also seemed happy that they had managed to get two chitter chatters in their group, letting herself relax and focus on their surroundings and the people they passed.

Virgil had found the glances they got unsettling. It made him miss the comfort of his hoodie and sneakers, instead of being stuffed in fancy robes like an extravagant show doll. The excitement of the witches and wizards they walked by, quickly became curiosity and what he would think was awe, like when you watched a rare historical painting for the first time. You would want to touch it, have your fingers glide over the bumps in the paint, wanting to know if it was real, but refraining because it was not allowed.

Some were dressed in elaborate robes, with colors of the rainbow and glittering stones detailing the seams, some had uniforms on, probably aurors and guards of every kind, while others were hauling big bags with frying pans, flags and boxes of tents hanging from them. everyone was talking loudly, laughter was the sound most commonly flying through the air, together with shrieks of happiness.

A man apologized absentmindedly when he bumped into Kace in his haste. She glowered after him discreetly, without turning her head in his direction.

Virgil felt giddy from it all.

It was like all the anger and frustration he had bottled up inside through the years, had fallen from his shoulders and made his heart easier to bear. It was freeing, but his anxious mind still constricted him with thoughts of what being an ambassador would entail. He had not had any briefing or time to ask about what they were meant to be doing here.

Would they be watching the athletes?

Would they go to dinners?

Parties?

Should he introduce himself as a druid of Amesbury or as Merlin’s great, great, great, great –

Did he have to talk to people?

Was he meant to make a speech?!

His palms were getting sweaty and his clothes felt constricting.

“Take a breath, you’re paling” Kace told him in a whisper, as they were brought to a smaller street from the main road. He took a deep breath and counted to five before releasing it in a great gust.

There were not as many people on this road. Strips of sunshine fell unto stretches of leaves, from in between the roofs of the bright buildings this street had to offer. A group of African witches and wizards were standing by a door with their own guide, loud laughter and brightly colored robes making them memorable.

Their guide stopped at the house next over, drawing out a key from an inner pocket and quickly unlocking the grand door and turning to them with a smile.

“This is where you will be staying. Via Foresta is a quiet street and no one unauthorized can enter the premises without permission from the committee itself” she told them and lead them inside the building. “There are three rooms upstairs, an open kitchen with dining room in one go, and a calming living room with doors that lead outside to the pool area that you will share with the neighboring houses.”

She opened the French doors in a flurry.

“There are bathrooms on each floor with bath and shower in each, and then you have a fireplace where you can make quick calls and travels but know that you cannot get visits or calls from outside. Safety measures, I am sure you understand.”

They all followed her outside, where the pool looked inviting with the rising sun mirroring itself in the blue. The guide walked up to an extravagant birdhouse and called out three falcons. Merlins.

Virgil scoffed.

“You will be able to send off letters but remember to share them with the others” she smiled at a bird that chose to clamper unto her covered forearm. Its blue feathers ruffled in happiness and its beady eyes shifted from one person to the next.

It was captivating.

Cute.

“If you want a tour around and see the main areas, I am available now or later tonight before the reception.”

“Reception?” he could not help but ask.

“All politicians will attend tonight” Fax explained, pulling at his robe importantly. “It’s to show sign of good faith and create liaisons between the most powerful people of the magical society. We will be going since druidism is broaching out these days, and we’re trying to move out from the shadows of the outcast titles.”

Morvan threw his arm of Virgil’s shoulders, almost scaring him out of his skin.

“It’s not just for boring politics though” he excitedly told him. “It’s the opening party of the Games. We’re celebrating that we all come together to have fun and enjoy each other’s company together with gourmet food and fancy wine! I know where I’m going to be for the night that’s for sure.”

“By the bar?” Virgil asked in mirth, pushing the older man off him.

“That too, but I did mean the food table.”

“What’s the plan?” Kace spoke above them, frustration clear in her voice. She was clutching her bag pack tightly and massaging her temple with the other hand.

“I would like to unpack and talk over the plan for tonight, at some point” Böli said. “But I’m open for relaxing for a bit, we do have half a day before we have to go, after all.”

Fax had already moved inside, taking both his and Böli’s belongings with him, and Morvan had shed his robe, laying down in a beach chair nearby with black, tight shorts and tank top instead. Basking in the warming sunlight and showing off his sculpted body.

“I- “he cleared his throat, looking back and forth between Kace and Böli. They looked exhausted both of them.

“I would like to take the tour? I’m not that tired right now” he told them, almost immediately catching the dim in Kace’s eyes.

“You don’t have to go with me! I can take the tour myself, no one knows who I am anyway, and if I wear something else, I won’t stand out” he tried placating her, but she only shook her head and dropped her bag on the floor.

“It’s okay Virgil. I’ll wake up when I get a cup of coffee” she sighed, before adding begrudgingly in a whisper, “Maybe after five.”

“I’ll join you too, we’re meant to guard you as much as we’re here as peace givers” Böli told him with a smile.

Their guide gave them a bright smile and walked into the house again, waiting for them to leave their bags in their rooms and ready themselves for the tour.

Virgil got his own room. Thank gods. But Kace and Morvan shared a room right next door to his own, and Fax and Böli were right down the hall next to the stairs. It was probably planned very strategically, as if he was the kind of animalistic pre-adult who took every chance he got to get away from his elders.

Wait.

He shook his head, removing the offending thought in a second.

It was not like he would change from one moment to the other and become this picture-perfect vision of how the heir of Merlin should behave, but he reckoned that he could try and show that took this job seriously and in the end, maybe they would let him continue with this kind of work where he could live his own life, instead of being imprisoned in the clan all the time.

Even though he was not very fond of the thought of having to act all politically correct and having to talk with important people at events like this.

He could already feel the rising of goosebumps and the quickening of his heartbeat, at the mere thought of shaking some Prime minister’s hand.

Virgil decided to throw the last of his baggage half asset in the dresser underneath the window, and almost run out of his room. He was ready to forget all about the reception tonight.

 

 

The sun had risen to the mid of the sky.

They had used a lot of hours, walking through main street after main street, and seen the prime examples of Italian architecture throughout the Olympian city, inspired by the renaissance age and its great masters of art. He had heard of Leonardo di Vinci in his history classes at Hogwarts. The man had been a pioneer in the alchemist field and had, had an inexplainable thirst of making muggles able to fly and see the wonders in moving paintings.

Their guide also mentioned Lavinia Fontana and Donatello di Niccolò as being prominent artists in the magical society at the time, though the Olympian committee had also been inspired by the famous muggle artist Michelangelo di Lodovico.

There were beautiful fountains at every square, and little cafés where people could find shadow in the baking heat and buy lunch or something to quench their thirst. Doves walked the streets for breadcrumbs, owls where flying above their heads with letters and newspapers and people were standing on balconies, watching the mural of people from every culture coming to enjoy a month of sport events.

They had already seen the stadium of synchronic charms and dueling, and the arena of the more intellectual sports like wizarding chess and gobstones.

Now they were moving toward the beast area, where the stables were held and the fields for ring flying and dragon riding was. The guide told them that she would leave the quidditch arena for last, since it was the most impressive and the new eighth wonder of the world.

He just knew that he wanted the tour to end soon.

It was all very impressive, yes.

But it was hot.

It was noisy.

There were too many people.

And he was getting cranky.

“Do you want coffee?”

Kace had held out her half-empty cup. It was the third she had bought in the few hours they had used on this. Three cups of coffee for each square they had walked through, where she had managed in sneaking off and getting back without any of them noticing that she had been gone in the first place. Just walking there with a new steaming hot cup of black coffee. No sugar. No milk. Lots of caffeine.

He shook his head and pulled at his cloak again. It was so hot.

“No thanks, you never use cream.”

She snorted into the lukewarm hell drink.

“Of course not, why would you ruin the only energy source you have when you go past the age of twenty-five, with something as close to sleeping potions as that?”

He fanned the air into his sweaty face with the tip of the cloak.

“You’re so melodramatic.”

“We both know who’s the real diva between us Virgil, and it’s really not me.”

He scoffed, letting her win that one.

They had been walking through an area filled with tents that was being set up by guests from around the world. There were a lot of people all over the place, some were even fighting for spots to live at for the next month. Kids were running around playing, some were flying around on toy brooms and a little group had gotten the hands on a wand, running away from a yelling adult that were on their heels.

One of them stopped up shortly, looking curiously after them before the adult grabbed their arm, clearly out of breath.

“Who was that?” the kid had asked loudly.

“I think they’re druids.”

“What’s a druid?”

It was weird to think that some did not know what they were. As if they were another species entirely. Druids had really been away from the wizarding society for too long.

“It’s good with representation, right Kace?” Böli had said, once they moved through the great opening into the courtyard where the Pegasus stables were on both sides, in pale sun kissed stone buildings, with the view to the arena straight forward.

A witch came walking with two Pegasus’ trudging by her side. Both had pearl shining fur, but the closest one had the ends of its feathers dipped in an inky color. Their long manes fell over their sweaty necks, and their energy was high as they kept dancing on all four hooves.

“Breathtaking creatures” whispered Kace.

Virgil could only nod. He had only ever seen one in his textbooks for Care of Magical Creatures, and that was just a moving picture, it was a whole other thing seeing them in real life. They were at least a head taller than him, if he measured by their backs.

“Oh.”

Their guide seemed to stop for a second. Puzzled.

“Perhaps we should wait until tomorrow before I show you the Dragon pits?”

She turned around with a smile that more resembled an uncomfortable grimace than anything else.

“Why is that?” asked Böli.

Virgil and Kace sidestepped the guide, who tried to show them the way back and away from the arena further ahead. There was a mass of people, their yells echoing all the way up to the courtyard even though they were at least a couple of hundred yards in between them.

They sounded angry.

“What in the world is going on?” he asked under his breath, before moving forward quickly, making the others scramble along after him. The guide asking for them to stop and get back.

The people were standing in a long line, from the entrance of the arena and all the way down toward where the dragon pits probably were placed in the ground. There were signs everywhere in the mass and some had robes with dragons flying free all around in the clothing, breathing a hellish fire that lit up the base colors.

The outer wall of people was holding hands and swaying together. They were yelling a slogan, the words punctuated in the rhythm.

“Set! Them! Free!” “Set! Them! Free!” “Set! Them! Free!”

There were so many. All kinds of people had gathered, different nationalities, different ages and different genders. But they had come together, and they were spitefully angry.

Virgil walked along the line, deciding to move through the crowd to avoid the guards that came rushing to temper down the mass. From what he could see, it was not only the kind of guards that had walked around the plazas and streets with the mingling guests. It looked like some of them were wearing the black robes of the aurors as well, trying to get some control of the situation even though they had only just apparated to the scene.

The mob probably had not been there for that long.

He looked back to ask what the others thought of the commotion, but the view of strangers all around him and his guardians nowhere in sight, made him realize that he had lost them by accident.

That was not good.

He stepped up unto his tiptoes, trying to see above the crowd and fine either the fair hair of Böli among all the dark, or the Celtic tattoo upon Kace’s head, but he could not find any trace.

Not good. Not good. Not good.

Virgil scratched his scarred hand absentmindedly, glancing at all the faces surrounding him. A woman stopped yelling for a second to give him her sign with a solemn nod, before starting up on the chant again, yelling louder than before.

The wooden sign had been painted black all over, even the shaft. He turned it over to see the grieving face of a sunshine dragon without horns and blind eyes. It was coughing sparks like it could not breathe its fire.

A protest against animal cruelty then.

Virgil could get behind that, that was for sure.

He was about to lift the sign, joining in on the protest when the sound of popping and flashes of red brightened the top of people’s heads.

“Stunners!” someone yelled.

In that second the crowd went wild, moving like waves on a furious ocean. Some disapparated on the spot, taking side partners with them, others started pushing to get out of the cramped middle. Signs went flying in favor of wands that lit up in counter attacks and curses.

The woman who had given him her sign, pushed him almost to the ground, a sneer on her face as she leaped over him.

“Løb for helvede!”

He had no idea what she had said, but when the dark uniforms of the aurors came nearer in the dwindling mob of gatherers, he quickly made the decision of pulling the hood of his cloak over his head, leaving the crying sign behind and making a run for it.

Kace and Böli would make it. They were older adults, of course they were wise enough not to walk into the middle of an illegally protesting crowd. Gods, how stupid could you be, he had not even been more than a dumb spectator before that.

He ran along where the line had been a short time before, the towering walls of the arena shadowing him from the burning sun, all the way down to the first couple of pits where dragons were baking their scales in the streams of light. Horns were filed down, claws had been clipped and more than one set of eyes had greyed over with blindness. Their otherwise colorful scales had dulled exponentially, and from what he could see it had not come from age.

His heart cried out to the once magnificent creatures.

“-down on the ground! Wand on the ground now!”

A child cried out as a couple of aurors wrestled their parent harshly unto the dusty ground, wand kicked quickly out of their grip.

“I have rights! Let me up, she’s crying! The man yelled, his voice rasping with panic.

Virgil disappeared down a stairwell that led underground, he ran until he stopped hearing the commotions upstairs, and a bit further afterwards just in case someone had seen him slip away. His breathe was on fire, with lungs that was not used to running.

Did those aurors really just beat up a man while his daughter was watching? What had the world come to? Her face had been blotched and no one had been there for her, except for the father that was held down. He had just run. Why did he not stop?

What kind of ambassador was he if he was not there representing peace?

He dried sweat away from his brow, looking around the cooler area he found himself in, trying to forget the globs of tears falling on chubby cheeks.

It was a hallway with stone walls and light coming in from in between thick bars, that shielded from the room on the other side. It was clammy. Echoey. There were boxes of equipment standing against the wall.

He could only hear his own breathing, his footsteps shuffling forward, walking closer to the bars, his hands coming up to rest against them as he peered out.

It was bright. Shadows surrounding the sides of the giant circle, and strong bars covering the ceiling, crisscrossing each other. The Icelandic flag billowing from the wall on the other side. But what made him gape in earnest, was the bundles of huge, scaled creatures laying about in the sun.

Dragons.

Three of them.

One had pearly scales, shining with rainbow colors, and a slim long body, tail tucked around it and wings splayed out on the ground. It looked like an Opolaye, but he had to see its eyes to be sure if it was one of the dragon breeds of New Zealand.

Another was pacing back and forth in a line, snorting at the roof that had chained them away from the sky. It had dulled red scales and what could have been golden spikes, though they had clearly been filed down. He was pretty sure it was a Chinese Fireball. The short snout a clear indication.

The last was looking straight him, sniffing the air, and he could not look away once he was caught.

The black dragon was big. Not as big as the Opalaye, but definitely a force to be reckoned with. Its eyes were a milky white, scars running along the edges of them. purposefully blinded. Its horns and spikes were filed down, though there were no scars littered across the armored plates its nightly scales were. The wings were tucked close, shimmering with crimson flickers in the sunny beams.

It was laying there across the circle. Observing him as he observed it. He knew the breed, of course he did, he had always loved dragons and it felt like heartbreak watching them like this, trapped away from their natural habitats.

A Chilean Earthshatterer. It must have been difficult capturing it, since he knew they were not bred in captivity and only recited in the volcanic areas of Chile.

It must have fought them so bad, but in the end lost.

It breathed out heavily through the nostrils, dust coming up around it in small clouds.

He wanted to set them free, everything in him told him to just do it, to hell with what everyone else thought or stupid prison sentences. They were not meant to be here!

The dragon sighed again and looked away, closing its eyes and resting its head upon its massive front legs. Its claws were cut too.

To hell with it indeed!

Virgil did not think much of anything as electricity began running up and down the bars he was holding onto. If he did he would probably tell himself to stop, get out of there and forget everything about the horrific animal abuse he had seen. But he did not. He was not a coward anymore. Clearly an idiot, but coward? No thanks!

He would most definitely have been chosen for Gryffindor if the Sorting Hat sat upon his head in these seconds. The house of the stupid and the mental!

“In a moment big guy” he murmured to the dragon.

Its milky eye opened, peering back at him.

“ _Stupefy_!”

Virgil went flying, scarlet light engulfing him for a second as his body stopped cooperating and he landed hard on the ground, face downwards.

He groaned, the sparks of the spell making his body heavy and twitching in the aftermath. Gods, he hated modern spells.

“Stay down and don’t move! I’ll apply restraints to your hands now” the voice stated clearly. In that second, his hands were forced behind his back and a muttered spell of _Incarcerous_ conjured rope to bind him with.

Virgil would have pulled at the restraints if his body had not been so damn heavy!

“I have rights you know” he breathed out, air forced out from his chest by his own weight. Might as well try placating his arrestor. He thought no one had followed him down there. He thought he had been lucky and gotten away to a safe hiding place!

And now he was caught trying to free dragons! He had not even been in Gryffindor; how could he have been so stupid?!

Hands were on his shoulders pulling him up roughly and turning him around. The man had to hold him up tightly, so Virgil would not fall back on the dirty floor in one big swoop.

“Yes well, everything you- “the man stopped talking immediately, closing his eyes and shaking his head before looking back at Virgil with an unbelieving stare.

“Are… you wha- who” his brow scrunched up in confusion, clear ice blue eyes looking lost behind the dark mask. He had seen them before somewhere, but the stunning spell had made him feel a bit drowsy, his head singing idiocy songs at himself on loop.

“Virgil?”

Huh. He knew him too.

Virgil squinted at the auror, his black uniform a clear indicator of his job and the protective mask covering half his face from the nose to the top of his head, looking almost like a scary version of a masquerade mask.

There was blonde hair peeking out, it was almost white, maybe bleached from the Italian sun. he was taller than Virgil, broader but not in a body builder sense, he was fit. Like a fighter.

He looked down at the wand by his left arm, still clutched in the grasp of its owner. Virgil had also seen that one before. It was the only fir wood wand he had ever seen in his years in the Wizarding World.

The man shook him gently, wanting his attention back and Virgil glanced up lazily.

“Are you-?”

The eyes behind the mask kept flittering all over his face, looking for something. The man’s wand arm left him, making Virgil topple forward clumsily into his warm chest. Probably baked in the sun, was his immediate thought.

The man huffed, and the mask was whisked away in smoke, as a very familiar face came forward, making Virgil’s heart leap into his chest and throw himself back toward the floor instead of the man he had made late night talks with, and cuddled, his brain helpfully reminded him, one of the last times he had seen him.

Before Virgil could knock himself out against the cement, his fellow Slytherin caught him around the waist and pulled him up to stand straight again.

His eyes were as disbelieving as Virgil felt his own face was. Though he was not sure whether the blood in his face wanted to disappear to make him look like a ghost or explode into a crimson color all over his skin.

“How is this possible?” Jake muttered. Because it was Jake. His old roommate. His old, snarky asshole of a roommate who was kind of cool and funny underneath all the arrogance and teasing. The one with the immaculate hair that had grown a little wilder and the sculptured body that had grown… more sculptured.

“Jake” he rasped out.

Jake let go of him for a second, as if burned, but his hands kept coming back to touch his bound arms, shoulders, hair and neck.

Virgil shivered.

“How are you-?”

Jake cleared his throat, collecting himself before looking him dead in the eye, all confusion forgotten.

“I thought you had died.”

“Wha?” Virgil piped embarrassingly.

 “You didn’t come back one night and then you were just gone, and everyone kept saying that you had gone back to the druids, but I just knew that you would never do that, because frankly, from what I got from you and with how you behaved all the time, they were clearly abusive assholes and you would never in your right mind suddenly decide to go back. And why would you? You were learning magic at Hogwarts, everything was in place and you could do your-” he gestured wildly at Virgil. “-Old Magic thing again. It just didn’t make any sense that you would suddenly disappear, I was so sure it was a fucking cover up the school made because you had committed suicide or something” he rambled on.

Virgil gaped at all that information.

He thought what now?

“I didn’t commit suicide” he told him lamely.

Jake gave him a ‘no shit’ look.

 “I went back to the druids” Virgil muttered, suddenly feeling more chastised at the earful Jake gave him, rather than the fact that he was literally bound and ready to be shipped off to the Ministry.

“I see that!” Jake snarked back, slapping at the druidic mark on the front of his cloak.

“What the hell V?! You couldn’t even manage to say goodbye?!” he yelled, fair face quickly gaining a crimson color.

“I-I, well- “Virgil sputtered, trying to collect his thoughts and at least manage a somewhat satisfying response. “It happened very fast and I- we… I had to go?”

That was not the answer Jake had clearly wanted, since in the next second Virgil’s back was smacked up against the wall next to the bars, Jake not wanting to be the one to keep him standing but at least not letting him fall to the ground again.

He messed up his blonde locks some more, making his hair stand on end. A glower kept in Virgil’s direction.

There were so many emotions flickering in his eyes. It made Virgil’s breath hitch, not knowing if he should be elated to see his former dormmate or if he should be anxious that his former dormmate was so angry with him that he probably had no problem in arresting him.

“That was a shitty thing to do.”

Oh he already knew that. It was something he had thought of a couple times over the years, but it had always been mixed up with how he left the others too. He had never really thought of Jake’s individual reaction that much, it was not like he had mattered much to him anyway.

“…Fucking idiot.”

The ropes fell from his hands, disappearing into thin air before they could hit the floor. His arms came to rest in front of him, hands scampering to touch his wrists on instinct. Virgil looked up at his glaring face in confusion.

Jake huffed, rolling his eyes and flexing his wand noncommittedly.

“Of course I’ll let you off dumbass” he snarked. “The dragons didn’t get out and no one can prove you did anything, so…”

Virgil turned his head, avoiding the other’s angry gaze in exchange of watching the Earthshatterer instead. Its head had moved underneath a folded wing, patience or brief humor lost again.

He sagged, helplessly watching the creatures either laying about or walking in straight lines in the too small enclosure. His fist clenched. He could not just leave them there, he had to do something.

A hand slammed loudly against the bar next to Virgil’s face, making him almost jump out of his skin and quickly look up at Jake and his now disbelieving face. Could he make up his mind with all those emotions?!

“Don’t even think about it” Jake warned lowly, finger pointed sharply at Virgil’s face. “What do you think the committee would think if they found out it was some English guy that had messed with the dragons of the Icelandic team?”

“I’m Welsh” Virgil declared, almost offended.

Jake waved him off, waiting for the real answer.

Virgil huffed, scrunching up his face. He had forgotten how annoying the guy could be.

“I can’t just let them stay here, can’t you see the cruelty in their living conditions?” he tried reasoning. An eyeroll in return. Nice.

“I swear you’ve only gotten dumber with the years” Jake sighed, pushing away from the bars and adjusting his work attire. “You can’t let out the dragons and I’ll be nice and give you three reasons as to why you shouldn’t let them out” he pulled up a finger, looking at Virgil as if he was a three-year-old.

“One; They are from a different team and this is all a peaceful event where countries compete against each other. We do not want countries messing with other countries’ dragons.” Another finger. “Two; They are damn huge and stupidly strong, even if they can’t breath freaking fire anymore! How would you manage them all by your lonesome, so they won’t kill anyone?!” a third finger and a red-faced Jake. “It’s against the Law of Beastly Protection in the European Magical Preserve! It’s forbidden to own dragons on a private level, it’s even illegal to move a dragon without a permit from either the European Magical Creatures Commission or one of the dragon reserves on the continent! Are you freaking kidding me Virgil?!”

He did not really know if he wanted to say anything to that. If he could say anything. His gut was telling him that this was wrong, and it almost felt like getting called to action when it mattered most. And to them, he glanced out at them again. The Opalaye had woken up and was sniffing its snout high in the air. To them it was about their life, their freedom to fly and live.

He heard a sigh but did not turn to face him.

A hand grabbed his arm gently and pulled him away from the wall. Virgil stumbled a bit before he gained his footing, body beginning to get its bearing again after the hit.

“V.”

He did not want to look at him. In a way he knew that Jake was right, but he did not want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that. Plus, he was actually pretty mad. Not just at the other man who was shaking him slightly now, but also at himself for being in this helpless situation even though he was this supposedly bringer of justice and peace or whatever.

“V, I know it’s not ideal and I don’t like to see animals like this either, but we can’t do anything. You understand?”

He was being pulled toward the exit. The light landing on the staircase’s last couple of steps coming closer. He shuffled along, feet dragging as if they wanted to follow his mind and stay put.

“Hey” Jake snapped his fingers in front of his face, making Virgil have to face him, though he made sure to gaze at him coolly. That would show him.

“Do you understand?”

“Yea, I understand” he grumbled back, blinking his eyes quickly as they made it to the surface again, the sun shining on and on.

“Good” Jake said, letting go of him, still walking leisurely by his side. They walked in silence for a while, passing by the stables where heads of the winged horses were poking out of the open windows at the stables, hay hanging from their mouths as they followed everything that happened. They mixed in between the mingling people of the tent area, Virgil’s hair rising with anxiousness as he felt people’s looks and heard their whispering voices, much better than when he was walking with Kace and Böli.

In a way he was glad that Jake was with him. At least just so he had someone with him that he knew.

“So” Jake’s voice said, startling him from listening in on a group of teens discussing the symbol on his cloak. “Do you have a tent somewhere?”

Eyes where starring everywhere. Too curious. Too many. He chose to focus on Jake instead, stepping a bit closer and further away from the people they were passing, having to look up since he was about a half head taller than himself. He had a little bit of a blonde stubble, not enough to notice right away, but the light color glittered with sunshine.

“Ehm” he started, clearing his throat and stopped being a creep with his staring. “No, not really. We have this house on a quiet street close to the main plaza” he told him.

“A house?”

Virgil nodded, following Jake around a group of boisterous wizards, standing with drinks in hand and laughingly clapping each other on the backs.

“I thought druids were all about the simple life and stuff.”

“Dude! We’re not cavemen, we have houses!” he could not help but release a surprised laugh, getting one of Jake’s old smirks on his face. “No, but seriously, it’s because we’re here to represent the druids of Great Britain, you know, as ambassadors or something.”

“Ambassador?” Jake huffed, smirk wobbling as if he wanted to break out into a smile. “You into politics now? going for the Minister post? I think Ms. Granger will be happy to see some competition.”

“Stop yourself.”

He poked Jake in the side with his elbow, falling silent again. It was comfortable, like when they had sat eating breakfast together or just talked in the middle of the night. It was nice. Bittersweet in a way. Nostalgic.

“I’ll follow you to your street then, can’t have you getting kidnapped or disappearing again.”

His gut dropped with negative feelings. Guilt. He hated it. But the way Jake had looked so confused as if he could not believe his own eyes, he had looked so shocked, it made Virgil wonder how much his disappearance had nagged at the other’s mind through the last five years. Had he really made such a big impact on him?

Virgil glanced up at him through his thick eyelashes. He missed his fringe.

Jake was looking straight forward, face carefully blank. Not at all like how the emotions had fluttered about down in the dragon dungeon.

“Hey… Jake.”

He got an inquiring hum in return.

“How… I mean- I- why did you think I had committed suicide? Did… did I do something that made you think that I… I wanted that?”

Silence settled for a thoughtful moment, before Jake put a hand on the small of his back and let him away from the last couple of tents and unto the road that would lead to the cobblestoned main street. His hand disappeared again and with it, the soothing warmth that had shot through him for the two seconds it had been there.

“You were so sad all the time” Jake started. “I didn’t know how to help, but I really wanted to, and I tried… in my own immature way of course. It was just not easy to make you smile.” They came through the first plaza, people parting for the druid and his auror.

“That year… you had always been sad. Or hopeless I don’t know, you were like a shadow, not really moving and not really wanting to interact or be seen and you know it” he gave him a pointed look. “But that year was just so bad, I mean, I had teen angst too, everything was messed up and stressful and stupid, but I saw how you lost weight and had these deep, dark bags under your eyes all the time and I swear sometimes you didn’t talk for weeks. So, yea. I guess I just thought you had, had enough with everything and that I didn’t do enough to help you when you needed it.”

It was the most genuine and regrettable he had ever seen him. He was not sure what to say. What could he say after such a heartfelt answer? Should he say anything at all?

They walked in silence again. Through plaza after plaza and crowd after crowd, until they ended up at the beginning of Virgil’s street. Guardian spell securing that Jake would not be able to enter. He turned to face him, shifting a bit around with his cloak in his hands.

“So,” he said.

“So” Jake answered, smirking half-heartedly.

It was embarrassing how bad he was a people interactions. He took a deep breath and got Jake’s focus back on him, from where he had been looking at the Merlin that was sitting in the branches above them.

“Are you staying for the whole month?”

Jake nodded.

“I’m hear to help guard some of the higher ups from the Ministry that’s here for the Games” he told him, smiling ruefully. “It can be a bit boring to be honest, it wasn’t this I thought my auror training would go to.”

Virgil snorted, quickly hiding his laugh behind his hand for a second.

“What about you?”

He shrugged in response. Truthfully he had no idea how long they would stay, but it probably would not be for the whole event. He could not imagine Elethea wanting to release him into the Wizarding world for that long.

“Haven’t really gotten the info from the ‘adults’ about that.”

“Just tagging along.”

“I guess.” No. not really, quite the opposite.

“Maybe I’ll see you at the reception tonight?”

He could not help the relieved beam that pulled at his cheeks almost painfully.

“You’re going too?”

Jake gestured to himself. A cocky eyebrow raised.

“Didn’t I just say I am a glorified bodyguard?”

To save his dignity and hide his quickly reddening face, he turned around and starting heading down the street instead of facing the other for another second. How stupid could you be Virgil? Get it together, it is just Jake. Annoying, arrogant Jake.

“See you tonight V!”

Virgil threw back a middle finger before he disappeared in through the front door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) Italian - "All roads lead to Rome!"
> 
> 2) Danish - "Run goddammit!"
> 
> Thanks for your patience! I know it's been a while, but to tell you the truth my Thesis project is slowly killing me, and that's why I'm a bit slow at writing in my spare time.  
> I think it will be a monthly update for the next couple of months as well (at least until the finals have died down)  
> Then I'm ready and back at it again!
> 
> I'm putting together a playlist for the story, where a new song will be added with each chapter.
> 
> Playlist:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pEFxfVyz4Uc&list=PLFZqzIR8tuAxbiwBBD35aOqMMxB7A8IwW  
> Again thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy the story as much as I do.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooorry for the wait!!  
> As I said, I've been working with a lot of school stuff and now I'm having stressful finals, so there's that!
> 
> i hope you'll enjoy this chapter!

His guardians had not been particularly happy with him appearing out of nowhere, when they had been frantically looking all over for him. Apparently they had also contacted the temporary auror office that had been made for the event. It was not until just after he had stepped into the Livingroom and seen how Fax and Kace had been yelling at each other, that they got a message from the office, that one of their agents had just informed them that they had made sure he got back safely.

Virgil had at first marveled at how fast it went. Then they had all turned to the entry where he stood, and he knew that he was in deep trouble.

That had taken the rest of the afternoon.

Kace had not let him leave her sight for more than going to the bathroom. He had kind of expected that, but it still grated on his temper and nerves to have someone on his tail constantly.  
Now she sat upon his bed. Legs crossed, hands knotted together in her lap and strict eyes watching him as he tried to fix his hair up again. Some strands had fallen down over his eyes and he very slowly managed to tweak every single one into place again, in the effort of ignoring the metaphorical stabbing in the back of his skull Kace was doing with her ‘Face of Wrath’.

His hands were shaking.

They were meant to be going to the quidditch arena in a little bit. The Olympian Wizarding Games would start with a flashy ceremony before the first quidditch match of the one-month long event would kickstart it all.  
The reason for that, he was told by Fax, was because quidditch was the most popular sport in the Wizard society all around the world and would represent the friendly and fair spirit of all sport.

He took a deep breath.

Then they would go to the reception, where he would meet world leaders from all over the globe.

He was not nervous.

Not at all.

The last strand he had just managed to put into place, fell down in his face again, going as far as to tickle the middle of his nose. He gritted his teeth. A distraction would be nice.

He sneaked a look backwards, meeting a thunderous stare.

Not that kind of distraction.

He looked into the mirror again. He looked very pale, a bit sweaty too, but he could not decide whether it was because of the heat or because of the terrifying thoughts of the reception and how he would have to shake hand- hug? Did politicians hug? Should he bow? And when he met the other druids, should he bow to them or would that embarrass him? Remember to stand tall, he should stand tall… like a royal? Was he royal to them? an entity? He was just a person! He was just Virgil Morgan! He was not Emrys, he should not be here, what was he thinking? He should not-

“Steam is coming out of your ears.”

Kace turned him around slowly, fixing the strands gently that he had manage to ruin when he had gripped his head unconsciously.

“Breathe Virgil, relax.”

He took a deep breath, inhaling for a couple of seconds before letting out in a great gust of air, calming his adrenaline kicked heart.

“That’s good” Kace told him, caressing his hairline. “It’s not going to be catastrophic there, I’ll stay close and help you out when you need it.”

“I just… how do I greet everyone? What should I say? Do I have to make a speech? People will probably look at me all the time too” he whined the last bit pathetically, throat crumbling together.  
Kace snorted, a wry smile on her lips and hands squishing his cheeks before letting go and taking a step back.

“You’re not going to make a speech no, if we were going to do that I think Morvan would be happy to do so, though frankly I’d rather Fax did it. That would be a bit more respectable” she said, adjusting her robes and furrowing her brow in thought. “I think… I think it’s best if we keep your Emrys status to the druidic society for now, I don’t care if Elethea gave you the ‘good to go’ to present yourself for the Wizarding community as well, I think that would be too much at once for you. Am I right?”

He nodded slowly, that had been a bit of a thing on his mind.

“But, if I can’t say who-what I am at the reception without any wizards or witches hearing, how am I supposed to tell the druids?”

“That’s what the ‘Mark of Emrys’ would have been good for.”

He tried glaring greatly at her, but it was not much more than a pout that broke out.

She regarded him for a bit, face blank and unreadable. She had calmed him somewhat down, though he still felt the nerves shift beneath his skin irritably. He hated big groups of people. Big groups of important people mind you, everything could go wrong.

“Curna.”

A small tin can shimmered into place on her palm, which she quickly unscrewed to show a type of black crème, paint? Paste? She drew her hand through it, getting a good glob on her fingers before moving swiftly to his face, scaring him enough to fall back into the wall.

Because no.

“Stop moving” she warned, firmly grasping his chin with one hand and drawing the black goo unto the skin underneath his right eye. “If you don’t have the tattoo to show” she muttered lowly. “We’ll just make a temporarily mark that the others can acknowledge when spotted.”

 

The crowd was huge.

He was sat in the “politicians box” where all the important people joined him and the others bit by bit, before the game would start and the players would enter the field.  
It was basically just a giant floor at the middle of the arena’s space, surrounding the pitch, but only using up the space on one side. Everything was dressed in cliché golden features and painted pictures of naked angel baby pictures flew around on the walls, trying to hit people with their Amor arrows.

Tables were decked with glorious gourmet food, appetizers for the hungry participants in the VIP lounge, and a type of sweet wine that, if you drank too fast, made you blow bubbles for a few seconds. This seemed to be a new thing, because Virgil had never seen old politicians cackle at, and trying to out bubble each other.

He was sat at the front seats that they could choose, if they wanted to follow the game, with Kace and Morvan flanking his sides. It was very comfy seats. Black, soft, leather chairs with cup holders for the wine. He had gotten one flute of wine, but Fax would not let him have anymore and had conjured some soda instead.

He had scoffed at that.

Magical fires formed into the flags of England and Brazil blazed on each their own side of the pitch, just behind the goal rings, and out on the middle of the field conjurers were forming the Olympian rings in a dancing splendor of colors. It was beautiful.  
People were getting into it, yelling louder and louder and stomping their feet with the beat of the loud drums that played. It was easy getting hyped with all the happy adrenaline people radiated.

A slight hand touched his shoulder barely and he looked up at Böli who stood behind him, pristine with her hair done up.

“There are some English politicians that have arrived” she told them all. “I think it is best to greet them.”

He took a deep breath before standing as proud as he could.

Here we go.

Kace smacked his hand away as he was about to smudge the Celtic falcon she had made.

A group of people came walking up the grand stairs that was only reserved for them. three elderly men, looking like the typical capitalist wizard, a strict looking woman and another younger woman who looked like her, both having silvery hair and big glasses.

“That’s Dolothea Thompson, I believe she is part of the Equality Party?” Kace muttered next to him, pointing to the older woman. He nodded carefully, if that was her name then she was one of the leaders of the party.

He saw as a whole lot of aurors walked through, some walking further in to look through the room, the others taking their places by the door and the overview. Right after them came…

Virgil almost dropped his goddamned mouth on the floor. He had only ever seen pictures of them in his History of Magic classes back at Hogwarts. Though they were quite a bit older now, they still looked like themselves.  
Of course they did, stupid. Keep it together.

The Minister of Magic, Hermione Granger was dressed in a navy pants suit and her greying hair was pulled back in a bun to tame her wild curls and her dark eyes were as sharp as in the books, moving through the room before she started greeting the people that had flocked to them.

His hands were so damn sweaty he could not for the life of him ever think of taking someone’s hand again.

Behind her, in his black auror uniform, walked the reason for Virgil almost dipping down in a faint. He had never even thought of a day were he would see most of the Golden Trio. He had to gulp at his suddenly dry throat.  
Harry Potter stood back to talk with one of the aurors before moving over to join Minister Granger, quickly getting lost in greetings too.

This was as wild as anything could ever be. Was he dreaming?

“-An honor to meet you, this is my wife Kiania Enright.”

“Pleasure to meet you.”

Virgil shook himself out of it and turned to his left when he finally registered that people had joined their group.

A woman who was dressed in airy, pastel green druidic robes and beautiful dark hair waving over her golden skin, shook the hands of Fax. Her tattoo was visible under her collarbone and her smile was radiant and pleasurable.  
As she turned to greet him, hand already outstretched to meet his, her pale green eyes widened in realization when she spotted the tattoo underneath his eye. she quickly looked to the floor and bowed deeply, with Virgil trying to shush at her or making her stop with the display of respect or something.

It was then the arm that was around her waist, helped her righting herself again and Virgil became aware of the blonde man who had been talking with Fax.

“Darling it’s really true!” she exclaimed, smiling in amazement at Virgil. “I truly thought it was just a rumor, but here you are! Here you are.” She whispered disbelievingly, bowing her head slightly again. “It’s an honor meeting you Son of Emrys.”

The man looked older than the last time they had met. His smile was as pleasant and polite as ever, but he had managed getting a sophisticated beard as well, blonde with flecks of ginger strands.  
He wore an impeccable black suit and rich robes, with a silky green dress shirt underneath the jacket. he looked striking.

"Emrys?"

The man eyed the symbol on Virgil's face, lighting up in positive surprise, he looked almost gleeful yet confused.

"I hadn't heard of this dear?" he told his wife, before turning to Virgil again. His eyes roving all over the younger's face.

"This is astounding! I had never in my wildest dreams believed that the timing could be more perfect" he said, big smile in place and quickly began shaking Virgil’s hand. "Have I perhaps met you before? I can't really tell at the moment."

“Yes actually” Virgil said with a polite smile. He could feel Kace and Fax eyeing him carefully. “You visited Hogwarts back in my fifth year. It was before I was pulled out.”

He saw the flash of recognition shooting across the other’s face, as the blonde finally pulled out the memory and let go of his hand at the same time. Virgil dried off his sweat on his pantleg.

“Virgil Morgan?” Amhar asked, eyes lighting up. “So that’s the reason why you never wrote me back. I thought for sure it either was because of my owl or that you just didn’t feel the need to answer.”

memories of burning paper and furious dark eyes flashed before him, as feelings of pain and longing clutched at his heart.

"Sorry about that" he told him instead, shaking off the unwelcome trip to the past.

Amhar waved him off with a small smile.

"Don't worry about it, it's understandable."

it looked like he wanted to say something more, but his wife took a hold of his arm and gestured to a couple of front row seats further down, where other Ministry people had placed themselves around.

"Let's sit down, I think it'll start soon" she told him, suddenly wrinkling her nose and stroking her round stomach. "And your son is kicking me, I need to sit. And of course laugh evilly as Brazil kicks your sorry asses."

"Right" Amhar chuckled and began guiding Kiania to the seats. "I hope we will meet again Virgil."

Virgil watched them leave, Amhar's hand on the small of Kiania's back as he helped her settle down in her chair, before they started chatting with the other Ministry officials.  
He came to the realizations that it felt surreal to be standing among most of society's higher ups and share the same air that circulated the room, with the likes of Hermione Granger and Harry Potter.  
He inhaled deeply.

It was also weird seeing Amhar again. He had known that he would have been here from the radio program, but he had not ever thought that he would stand here and have a chat with him again. And the way he just brushed off Virgil not having replied to him? Why was he not angry?

He stared at their smiling faces for a few seconds more, before his hand was enveloped in another Ministry man's, and he had to focus on getting his bad posture under control and greeting people politely again.  
There were no other druids to greet.

He got to shake hands with both Minister Granger and Mr. Potter briefly. He had been so shaken afterwards, glad that his voice had not wavered when Minister Granger had asked questions about the druidic communities and told him excitedly that she was looking forward to collaborating in creating the first alliance between their two societies in millennia.

When the door officials had deemed the room full and the last occupant had arrived, the doors were closed, and people came to place themselves at their seats.  
From what he could see, it had only been English and Brazilian ministers and rich people who had been allowed into the 'Golden Box'. He glanced around from his seat between Kace and Morvan, seeing Kiania speaking elated to a smiling Amhar and further down he caught a glimpse of a disbelieving Hermione Granger as Harry Potter spoke smugly with her. An English scarf having appeared around his neck.

So surreal.

Virgil jumped in his seat when sound exploded all around him and all the people in the whole arena started screaming and clapping.

Morvan slapped him on the shoulder.

"Look front and center Virgil, you can't miss this!"

He looked, watching wide eyed as illusions of tropical plant life flashed throughout the stands and reached up to the sky from all sides, to create a tree crown that branched out with a multitude of colored leaves and fell with a conjured wind toward the ground like feathers.

In one big flash of light and a giant boom, the crown exploded into a sparkle of falling stars and the Brazilian quidditch team came soaring out of the light in an arrow formation of yellow, blue and green, to the wild cheer of the spectators.  
He could not help but clap at the display, Morvan whistled beside him and everyone in the box cheered along as well.

Drums were beating in a samba rhythm, whistles and fire crackers flying through the stands, as every witch and wizard, no matter their ethnicity, screamed for the quidditch players in the air.  
The arrow formed team passed the golden box in high speed, catching their hair and clothes through the wide-open spectator windows in the wind that followed.  
It was exhilarating.

The team took another round around the pitch before they stopped by their goal hoops in the Brazilian end, waiting for their adversaries to enter.  
The ground began to shake, and Virgil instinctively reached for his glass of soda to make sure it would not fall and shatter. He exchanged confused gazes with Morvan, watching as he sat closer to the edge of his seat, muscles tense and ready for action if need be.

They looked out at the pitch again to see the ground move upwards into a small, round mountain, in the middle of the field. People were yelling in astonishment and clapping began slowly trickling back, with the magical fire that burned at the mountain’s roots, licking its way up to the top in spirals.

A resounding clap of thunder lead the flames up in a straight line, creating a flaming sword held in the hands of a giant man of flames, his cape billowing impressively in red and golden colors, as he pulled the sword from the stone in an impressive arch to point straight to the heavens.

People yelled louder, sounding like the uncontrollable waves of a storming ocean.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Fax jump to his feet and clap his massive hands harshly together. Virgil’s heart was beating so fast as he watched the flaming king circle the sword and turn into the final fire image of the Pendragon crest on the sky, disappearing like mist as the English team flew through it. Making stripes of red and gold in their wake.

The team circled the pitch much the same as the Brazilians had, taking a few laps to absorb the echoing cheering from the crowd.  
Their uniforms were mostly white, their pants and hoods a fierce red screaming for attention and their protective gear and boots a fine leather.

The two teams came to meet at the middle. The goalies were levitating in front of their respective rings and the seekers were planted around ten feet above the rest of the teams.  
The judge came to the middle, overlooking the handshaking of the two captains. A burly man from the English team and a tall woman from Brazil.  
There were some rules that were gone over and then the balls were released, the Brazilians quickly gaining the quaffle and shooting off toward the English goal posts.

“Who do you bet your coins on?” Fax asked from beside Kace. Morvan stretched his neck, making Virgil wince as he was sure he heard some cracking from the bones.

“Are you betting?”

A lifted eyebrow from their leader’s son.

“Aren’t you?”

“If you say you’re betting, then I’m betting too.”

“The betting pools are three flights of stairs down and to the left” Fax told him, as Morvan quickly walked around their seats and out of the room, hastily pulling a pouch of coins out of his robes.

Brazil scored, leading 10-0.  
Virgil bend forward to talk to Fax, still with his eyes on the game.

“Who’re you betting on?”

The older man clicked his tongue, a smug smile lining up on his face.

“Neither.”

A surprised laugh escaped him at that. It was not often Fax let his mischievous side show, to busy helping out at the village and being his mother's right-hand man. This travel was really unraveling them all.  
Booing ran through the audience. He watched as the referee flew to an English beater who was yelling loudly at a Brazilian about foul play and lies. She got a warning for disrupting the game and shooting deliberately for the head. the Brazilian player was exchanged for another player, being told to get his head checked out. Probably for the best, he thought, as he watched the blood gush from his nose and face pinched in pain.

The game went on.

He suddenly remembered how boring quidditch could be. Even in the middle of the chaos of competitive and rough playing and the dancing and chanting from the audience, Virgil felt his mind go carefully blank over the next small hour.  
He found a flock of birds hanging out at the ground of the pitch, looking for worms in the before magically overturned ground, that now looked as pristine and green as ever.

The last time he heard, the Brazilians were leading with 130-90 and the English had begun getting desperate in their attacks, forgetting their defense. Or so Morvan had muttered with a frown once he had been back for a while, having seen enough of the game to determine that perhaps he should have betted on Brazil instead.

Virgil watched from his resting place upon the framework, as the Brazilian seeker flew by, sweeping the area for the golden snitch somewhere.

The colors of their uniforms were great. The weather was nice and cooling from the former heat, the sky beginning to turn into a rosy gold color as the sun began to carefully set in the Italian sky. And the chants mingled with the beating of the drums were loud but not all that annoying to listen to.

It reminded him of his days at Hogwarts. How the students had been just as competitive and roaringly, though this could easily be counted as twenty times bigger with the amount of people in the stands.  
It reminded him of games with uniforms of yellow and black. Blue and bronze. Green and silver. Red and gold.

Chocolate eyes and a charming smile in a handsome face.

A face that came closer in high speed toward him.

"Ayers spots the snitch! The ministers better be careful in that box, because here- Santos follows quickly after! Who's gonna end the game?!"

His golden hair was billowing behind him in a small ponytail at the upper part of his head, and glimpses of a reddish gold, hair could be seen on his jaw, shining with the light of the sun as he kept his high-speed chase for the snitch that was going straight toward where Virgil was sat.

The mouth that had kissed him with both a gentleness he had not quite believed the Gryffindor could have, and with a passionate heat he could only dream of ever since, was set in a determined thin line and his eyes were set ablaze with adrenaline.  
His heart could not decide whether to beat out of his chest or to stop all together.

When their eyes met briefly, a few feet away, Roman's hand outstretched toward him. His heart gave out for a second, his own arm almost moving to take the offered hand.  
The irony of destiny bringing the golden snitch and quidditch in as their meeting, was not lost on him.

"Watch out!"

Kace gripped his neck tightly and pulled him down, as Morvan's body flew to cover his own from the brunt of a force that was about to happen. A shield of air was conjured just as quickly. The spell whispered in Virgil's ear.  
A roaring wind ruffled their hair and Virgil's breath was taken away the second he found the form of Roman flying back to the pitch, his arm outstretched in celebration and voice easily heard as he screamed his victory quickly surrounded by his team.  
The crowd was going wild and red and white fires lit up in the rings of the Olympics in the middle of the field.

The golden snitch was caught.

He could not stop thinking about him.

It had startled him to his core, shocked his very being and shaken the idea of him never seeing Roman again. It should not have been possible.  
Of course he had dreamed of it. Hoped for it in fact, but he had always known that it was more likely that he had settled himself for living with false hope in a world where everything he so dearly wanted always would be out of his reach.

Then he was there.

 

And then he was gone again, no recognition at all, and Virgil had not been able to react for minutes, maybe even hours, feeling completely out of tune with the world until they had arrived at the reception.  
Now he was standing by the windows that reached for the ceiling, admiring the beauty of the lit up Olympian city in the blackened world outside.

He took a sip of the champagne he had been nursing since he arrived. Waiters were milling around the world leaders who were gracefully small talking with each other and fake laughing so loudly it sometimes felt really shitty on his hearing and he had to grit his teeth.

He had been so tired of seeing the fake smiles and condescending looks they gave him, when they found how young he was looking. He knew they saw him as immature and not ready to be in their tight circle of prestige, politics and power.  
He knew they were right, but the rage kept simmering slowly in his veins, building up question after bothersome question.  
Some had thick accents when they spoke in English, others were basically fluent, but they all asked the same uncreative questions about druidism.

What was it?

Had it not been close to extinction?

What is Old Magic?

What influence could they have on the Wizarding Society?

Did they have anything of importance to contribute in a magical sense? Security? Healing? History?

Did he have a good story about Merlin? nudge nudge. wink wink.

After having discussed druidism and politics he had no clue about, with old power-hungry wizard number sixteen, he told Kace that he would duck out of the ambassador job for a bit to catch a break. She had tried to go with him, not wanting to leave his side for second.

He had stopped her with a tired look and she had nudged him in the direction of the window near the buffet, where he found himself now.  
Of course she still kept an eye on him from where she stood with Böli and two politicians from Zambia.

There were guards standing by the walls, doors and even the windows. one of them stood by the crimson curtain beside him, wearing a small Thai flag on the front of his dark robe. He kept glancing carefully every time he lifted his glass to drink.  
Apparently he had a foreign babysitter too.

Virgil took another sip, contemplating his numbed anxiety and the confusion Roman had created.  
He snorted to himself.

Why was he even shocked? Of course Roman would have gone for a quidditch career. Stupid, it was not even a surprise when he thought about it. The former Gryffindor had always had the talent too, why should he not be on the national team?  
He could recall hearing his name in the radio once. It made sense.  
He displaced his glass on the buffet table, holding himself as melancholy clutched at him with its claws. He kept his gaze on the fake stars coming from the buildings' lights.

"What did you think of the game?"

Amhar came to stand by his side, taking a drink from his own glass of champagne. He was as proper-looking as always, his blond locks still on point even though the air had been humid the whole day.  
Strands of Virgil's own bangs, had been falling down into his face steadily with time. He blew at one specific stubborn one that did not want to fall back into place, no matter what he tried.

"It was exciting" he told him automatically, the same sentence having been spoken multiple times throughout the evening.

Amhar glanced at him, before chucking the last of his drink and reaching over behind Virgil to put his glass on the table.

"To be honest I thought it had its boring moments. Quidditch has never really been my thing, but Kiania loves it" he said, snorting slightly. "She’s a bit angry at me right now, because of how the game turned in England's favor."

He pointed to the left where Virgil could see the other's wife in a heated debate with a druid from The States. She had a constant frown on her face and when she discovered them looking, her glare heated for a brief moment before she fell back into her discussion.

Virgil chuckled as Amhar groaned briefly.

"Is it bad that I hope Brazil wins next time, just so I can get to sleep in the bed again?"

"She's making you sleep on the couch?" he laughed in surprise, watching the blond try to compose himself again.

He shook his head, giving Virgil a small smile.

"Nah. Or I sure hope not, but I don't have any doubts that she would try if I was the least bit interested in quidditch and was teasing her with the defeat."

She sure looked like it before, Virgil thought, briefly glancing back at her again. She was massaging her stomach gently, still animatedly telling her opponent her opinion. He wondered if they had been together for a long time. Had they been married early or was it all new? Had they been together when he still was at Hogwarts and had a very different life?

“Congratulation on the pregnancy by the way. I don’t think I got to say it before.”

“Oh you would have dazzled Kia if you had” Amhar told him. “I don’t think she would be able to handle the fact that an Emrys descendant would basically bless our baby. Thank you though, he is our second. His sister is at home with Kia’s sister since she’s too small to come along for a longer trip.”

He turned to Virgil, the dark of the city looming behind him.

“To be honest I came over here to ask if you’re truly coming out as a public figure. I had never thought I would see the day that an heir of Emrys would return to the world, so I’m wondering if you’ve thought more about how to do it. If you’re going to go political or just stand as some symbolic figure to be polished and adored when looked at.”

“We’ve talked about it in the community” he responded, looking around the room for the others. He did not know how much he could say. Every other conversation he had, had tonight, had been about druids as a whole and all the druidic ambassadors had been handled by the others, so he would not get swarmed and put on the spot.

“Ehm… we’re a bit split on that decision. Some think that we should let me step up as the heir of Emrys to both the druidic society and the wizarding world in one go, where others would rather have that we ease into it” he pointed to the falcon underneath his eye. “Which is why I have this. We’re not going to go all out right now, and we’ll probably discuss it further when we get back.”

Amhar hummed at that. Thoughtful expression on his face.

“But what do you think?”

“Me?”

“Yes. It’s your decision in the end after all” Amhar said. “You outrank all of the people in this room by far, I would say. If it hadn’t been for Emrys and King Arthur a millennia ago, where would this whole society be?”

He did not know what to say. It sounded too much like a responsibility being forced upon him again. He gazed down at the ring on his finger. A painful reminder of what he was and what that meant. A memory of what he had to give up to take claim of the heirloom. In a sick way it felt like he kept enslaving himself.

“It’s… a lot” he mumbled, turning the ring with his fingers.

It was a lot. There was too much going on in his head, it was beginning to be difficult handling. This whole damn day... Dragons and people and quidditch and Roman and now existential questioning from a political standpoint?!  
Why could he not just compartmentalize? forget everything and go to bed with a clear head. He wanted to leave. needed to.

He quickly excused himself and walked through the throngs of people, trying to find someone from his own clan. Someone he knew. Maybe Kace, he could follow her the rest of the evening without having to tell her about his burning insecurities. She would let him and probably touch his shoulder in support.

There were so many people. So many suits and gowns and robes all around the extravagant room. Their laughter began sounding more like a ringing in his ears, the light turning so sharp he had to keep looking down to avoid it.  
He could not find her. Where was she? She had been right in the center of the room, he was headed there. Right?

Someone stumbled into him and he had to catch himself, losing his balance for a moment. He stopped moving, looking around at all the different faces instead, with squinting eyes. They were so full of themselves. Every single person in this room.

Fake. Everything was fake and powerful and corrupt.

His magic tingled, electricity running through his thumping veins with lightning speed.

Virgil quickly closed his eyes, concentrating on getting his breathing under control. Breathe in, do not lose control. Breathe out, not here, there are too many people. Breathe in, he could hurt them. breathe out, he clenched his hands into tight fists, hearing the sparks flash in his palms. Don’t lose it, don’t lose it, don’t lose it.

Why could people not shut up?!

"Are you okay, son?"

A hand landed upon his shoulder, the touch making him gasp for air. His mind disappearing in flashes of pictures.

 

An agonized face screamed, blood falling from a head wound, the nose and the ears. His big mustache was covered in spit, blood and puke.

A wand flashed green.

Lightening crashed over castle grounds.

The back of a bald head was covered in the druidic triskelion.

"Virgil?"

 

"Virgil!"

Two voices yelped, their hands leaving his body immediately, as a shock ran through his body and flashed dimly over the whole surface of his skin. A hand came back to touch the small of his back, it was smaller and warmer than the first.  
"That was some interesting magic you did there. Is that Old Magic?"

Virgil looked up at the man talking to him and came face to face with the guy with the mustache, he had just seen being tortured. He had a British flag pinned to his robe, and looked at him curiously, but he could not find the words to answer him, his breath taken away once again.

What the Hell?

The hand on his back twirled its thump comfortingly, shifting a bit till Morvan came around to check on his face. He seemed haggard.

“Are you good?” he asked, looking him up and down.

He felt faint, his tongue not working and his throat tightening up as he finally tore his eyes away from the man, who shifted on his feet in front of them. Virgil clutched at Morvan’s robes, his grip turning white.  
Morvan nodded thoughtfully, tightening his hold on his back.

“I’ll go find the others and let them know that we’re leaving. Do you want the others to leave with us?”

Virgil shook his head. It was better letting them handle the rest of the political small talks for the evening. He was sure that there would be questionings if all of the druids from Great Britain suddenly left together in the middle of the first evening of the Olympics.

He had not even comprehended that Morvan had left for second, before he put his hand on the small of his back and appeared at his side.

“I think we can get some pizza send to the house. I feel like eating something greasy, yet Italian” he said, leading him through the crowd. “You’ll have to excuse us” he said as an afterthought, to the other man who quickly stepped aside for them.

“Of course, of course. Have a good night!”

They moved quickly and effortlessly across the floor, people minding their own business’ and not looking twice at the two druids coming through.  
It was not until they were about to step through the doorway to the outside, that they were stopped by an auror, coming towards them with confident strides. Morvan was about to stop them from coming closer, his hand outstretched in a stop sign and mouth ready to explain, when the auror swung his wand, and his mask disappeared.

Jake’s face appeared, his blond hair mussed and sweaty on his forehead, and his mouth a thin line.

“What’s going on?” he asked, tone clearly demanding an answer.

“We’re going back to get some pizza” Morvan told him, smiling brightly and pushing Virgil a bit behind his frame. “It’s a bit too stuffed in here for our liking.”

Jake caught Virgil’s eyes, gaze narrowing in suspicion.

“Right” he said slowly. “Either way, as ambassadors you’ll have to be escorted to your accommodations” he moved away without need to talk more, to whisper to the auror by the door. Morvan stood taller and pushed his chest out.

“It’s okay we’re no- “Virgil started, his breath shaking.

“Wait a sec Virge, I think it might be a good idea.”

Virgil look up in as much disbelief as he could muster. He was tired of everything and he just wanted to return to the house to be alone with his thoughts, without having to worry about people being too near or scared of them touching him.  
He did not want Jake seeing him like this; weak, breathless and pale. He felt sick to the stomach.

What if he had another vision?

What if he had one of Jake?

What if Amhar came to talk with him again?

What if someone mentioned the quidditch match and he had to grit his teeth all throughout?

He just wanted to leave, and right now.

“- know where we’re living?”

“Yes, I helped Virgil back earlier today” Jake answered, still watching him. Would he just stop? Virgil bit his cheek and took a deep, shuddering breath, clenching the arm in his grip gently.

"Can we go?"

He watched with tired eyes as Morvan sized Jake up a bit more, before nodding slowly. Trepidation still clear in his gaze.  
Virgil was lead quickly from the room, passing both aurors at the door, and Morvan's hand locked tightly on his back.

"Keep up!" the older druid barked back at Jake.

Virgil looked over his shoulder, at the sight of the always cool blonde scrambling to catch up.  
Jake glared when he found he was being watched.

 

People were too loud!

Virgil gritted his teeth. If this kept up, he would end up ruining them before he was thirty.

He kept close to Morvan, clutching at his sleeve like a lifeline. He did not want to touch people, did not want them to accidentally touch him and throw him into the back of his mind again.  
What was that with the mustache man? Who was he?

He had not had any visions with this kind of ominous feel to them, since his nightmares stopped after he left Hogwarts. A cold sweat had broken out on his skin, and he flinched when a group of drunk witches cackled loudly as they bypassed them.  
Jake inched closer yet again, on his other side. He kept glancing down at him, eyes blazing with something Virgil did not care to know of at the moment. The feel of the vision kept flashing behind his eyes, making him wince each time the man screamed soundlessly.

Flutes and drums played loudly as they moved through the last plaza, people dancing in the middle and firing pretty colors of white and red magic into the night sky, enveloped in the golden flicker of the flowing lamps in the air.  
He narrowed his eyes and flashed his teeth in a dangerous mask.  
Clapping, screaming and victory singing echoed upon the surrounding walls.

"Shut up" he growled lowly.

Laughter boomed just beside them, from what looked to be a big family, sat together at the big fountain, with two of the kids splashing the water unto a set of young parents.

“Shut up” he hissed, getting eye contact with the young girl, who quickly paled and looked away. He bit his lip and looked away, not wanting to scare anyone else.

“V?”

He flinched when he felt Jake coming too close, making the blond quickly stepping back, his once outstretched hand, snatched away from touching.  
Morvan’s grip strengthened. Grounding him, and he breathed out soundly. He started listing what he could see and smell, trying to distinguish the different conversations they passed, instead of one big storm of howling voices.

“-I want that on! Mom! Mom! I need it, it’s life or death! Mo- “

“-Ayers autograph, it took me forever and I was the last in line, so the helpless bastard behi- “

“-Can we get a picture here? I like the lighting.”

“-That is completely unnecessarily unhygienic Patton, do you know how much bacteria can be found in such a facility? It is always better to be prepared, and have ones’ own choice of edibles with oneself at all times, instead of- “

That droning voice.

Virgil whirled around, almost taking Morvan down as he held on tighter in reflex. It did not matter, even as the redhead cursed at him, gaining his footing and Jake stood on guard beside him, having whipped out his wand and conjured his mask.  
He knew that voice!

Where was it?! Where did it come from? Where is it?

Where is it?

A loud and so, so happy laughter broke through the barrier of the people, keeping him apart from them. he knew that laughter too! How is it possible? Is he really hearing this?  
Where are they?

Where are you?!

He ran forward, pushing people out of his way with an instinctive conjured air shield.

Jake and Morvan called after him, he could hear them running behind, getting the backlash of the confused and slightly angry people he har tackled with no effort.  
He ran around the fountain, the lights twinkling as golden stars in the sky above and magic snapping in splendid sights, but his head was spinning as he tried gaining his bearings and looking at each and every face, he came by.

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

“Oh my goodness.”

Fireworks burst in golden colors, as he turned slowly. A shiver running down his back and eyes obviously wide in shock.

A man stood only a couple of feet from him, near the ice cream parlor, people walking in between them as they wished, obscuring them from each other.  
It was a young man, big and wild curls, even wilder than he remembered, almost resembling a birds nest from children’s fairytales. His glasses were big and rounded and blue, and his skin had darkened with a tan and even more freckles and spread all around his face, neck and the skin of his arms that weren’t covered by his pale blue t-shirt, with a drawing of a panda with the text “Pan-Duh”.

His very buff arms, holy shit.

Virgil opened his mouth, only managing a small wheeze.

“Oh MY GOD!”

Patton jumped through the people like a torpedo going for a ship, not stopping for anything. His smile almost covered the whole of his eyes, as he squinted in a big grin, colliding with Virgil’s much less muscled body.  
His thick arms wrapped around him like devil’s snare, never letting go. To be honest Virgil was not sure if he ever would want him to, as he let himself hug the other back and hide his face away down in the dark-skinned neck.  
He had not grown much, height wise that is, he seemed to mostly have stayed the same as in their fifth year, but the big bundle of hair, more than made up for the last couple of inches.

“I can’t believe it! I thought- I… How is it possible? How are you here?”

Patton kept mumbling, his voice wavering with his labored breaths, whole body shaking in shock. Virgil clung tighter to him, nuzzling as close as he could to the other, not caring if the falcon would get smudged on his cheekbone.

“Caro?”

Patton’s arms slipped, turning them to greet the female voice. Virgil looked up, only realizing when the air cooled his cheeks, that tears had slipped.  
His face crumbled, even though he tried holding back, making his lower lip wobble.

A woman, who looked to be in her mid-twenties, stood dressed in a flowy, pink dress that complimented her dark skin well, two ice-cream cones in her hands. Her hair was cut in a thick, dark bob, framing her big hazel eyes and bushy eyebrows.

Beside her stood Logan.

He was okay. He looked fine and okay. His worries eased up.

Dark turtleneck as part of his robes, perfectly styled hair, dark glasses and pink tinted skin. He had grown a lot. Was very tall, and with a bit of tummy and soft cheeks. He also had a professional looking Balbo beard.  
He should not be more than twenty? Nineteen?  
He looked well put together and grown up, it shook him a bit.

“See who came crashing through the crowd” Patton told them, his voice watery. He heard sniffling in the laugh that followed.

Patton’s arm never left his back, as they walked up to the others. The woman looked between them with curiosity, clearly not knowing what to say. Logan did not smile, his face kept carefully stoic, with not even a trace of shock to be found.

“Gaia this is Virgil, the druid I went to Hogwarts with. He was in our friend-group” Patton said, gaining a smile from the witch, Gaia. “And Virgil, this is Gaia. My girlfriend.”

She stepped forward, giving one of the ice-creams to Patton, brushing off her hand before taking his to shake in greeting.

“I’ve heard bits and pieces, here and there about you” she told him. “You were going to study magic they couldn’t teach you at the school, right?”

“Uhm, ye-yea. That’s right” he answered, not really comprehending the fact that Patton had a girlfriend. He thought there had been something with him and Logan? But then again time changes things, and it had been five years since then.

And Patton had always been a cuddly person, maybe there had not been anything at all. The former Hufflepuff also had a shine in his eyes, which were not coming from the unshed tears. He looked, well… happy.

“We should get back to the hotel, it is getting late and I am sure Gaia would like to rest” Logan said, his voice low and deep.

“Cara?” Patton asked, looking at her with a furrowed brow.

She waved his concern away, glancing confused back at the somber looking man just behind her.

“I’m fine Pat, I wanted to see the last of the fireworks anyway and I’d love for you guys to be able to catch up. It’s a bit of a chance meeting after all.”  
Patton though, tutted at her answer and let go of Virgil to stand by her side, looking intensely at her. Probably feeling her out, he thought, as Gaia only changed to relaxed posture to one with her hand on her hips, staring him stubbornly back in the eyes.

“You sure?”

She rolled her eyes, grabbing his neck and giving him a peck on the lips.

“I’m sure.”

It was disgustingly sweet. He could not stop the goofy smile appearing, when Patton’s shoulders sagged in relief, resting an arm around her shoulders so he could gather her in his arms in a warm embrace.

"How have you been Virge?” he asked.

He saw Logan rolling his eyes.

“Virgil!”

The four of them startled at the sharp shout of his name, as Morvan trudged through the heap of people quickly stepping aside to led the frazzled druid through, quickly followed by Jake in his impressively billowing auror robes.

“What the hell V?!” Jake raged, flicking his mask aside in a swift move. “What the fuck were you thinking?! Disappearing on us? Did you even think of the consequences? Do you have any kind of self-awareness or even a hint of fucking brainpower, that tells you NOT to act like a douchebag Gryffindor?!”

Silence. He was suddenly aware of the eyes of the people gathered close by, and not only the ones he was clearly talking to. Patton and Gaia looked immensely confused, the former’s smile frozen in a stiff mask, and Logan stood fuming, looking to the side and away from the commotion.

“Uh, I just…” he started, but quickly trailed off, not really having an explanation. He had not really thought of anything other than finding the source of the voice, it had taken central part in his mind everything else nothing more than bleak colors flashing and humming sounds. Hyper fixation. He could see the stupidity just fine, but he did not need to be yelled at my his moronic former dormmate.

“Hi Jake” said Patton, giving a sheepish wave.

Jake stared back, his face devoid of emotion in the blink of an eye. Patton gave a crooked smile, tip tapping on the floor with excess energy.

“It’s Patton” he clarified, helping the auror remember.

He nodded slowly, clearly not finding him familiar. It was almost laughable, if it were not for the fact that Virgil was having angry people surrounding him, and now that the initial meeting with his dearly missed friends was over, the stomachache made itself known again, and he found himself getting dizzy.

“I propose that we let the gentlemen leave, since they are obviously supposed to be elsewhere” Logan said, giving Patton a brief but telling glare. He did not want to be there.

His throat burned, and he swallowed with difficulty.

“But- “Patton protested.

“He would have clearly contacted us if he truly wanted to meet up with us again” Logan told them loudly, making sure that Virgil could hear the disdain in his voice. “He had the means to do it, but he did not, and I for one do not have the time of day to exchange pleasantries with such an individual.”

He came forward and grabbed unto Patton and Gaia, pulling them back and nodding politely at Morvan and Jake.

“Gentlemen, good evening.”

Virgil reached out for them. they could not leave, why would they go? Did Logan not hear what Gaia said about it being a chance meeting, what if it never happened again?  
He took a step forward.  
Please stay.

What had he done? Logan looked back at him with such contempt, it was plain to see how he felt about the situation. About him.

He should have contacted him sooner, he should have tried harder to stay and not let Logan stand as a fourth year, with the responsibility that he left behind. He should have answered when the other tried to maintain their friendship.  
His hand fell to his side, clenched tightly, as he bit his lip.

“Wait Logan, stop.”

Something was shoved into his hand. Warm fingers clutching at it. He looked up to see Patton quickly look over his own shoulder, watching Logan stand with his back to them. He turned back to Virgil with a nervous smile, and clamped a little tighter around the hand, surrounding a black and smooth object.

“It’s my phone, do you remember those?” he asked.

Virgil looked down, it looked like those phonetics he had seen before, but he did not know how those worked. He had never tried. Patton grabbed it quickly, showing him how to push the only button and lighting it up. He talked frantically.

“See, just push this and then the code is 1501. If you want to message me, just push the one with the envelope and text Gaia’s number, it’s the one with all the hearts and- “

“He will not contact you Patton, it is more probable that he will throw away the mobile phone. Do not get your hopes up for someone who does not care for anyone but himself” Logan barked. It made his blood boil in indignation.

“What’s your problem?”

“You.”

Virgil froze at that. It was not said with any ounce of snark, sarcasm or tease. It was fact based. The truth. Logan held his gaze, eyes cold and unbothered, as if he was nothing more than an ant he had just crushed under his big boot.  
He could not let him see how it got to him. He did not want to cry, but it felt like tiny shards were burrowing themselves into his heart.

He heard a scoff and felt the removal of Patton’s warm hands.

“Please call Virge.”

Then they were gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand welcome back to Pat and Lo!
> 
> How do you guys like it so far?  
> Are there some things you're looking forward to next?
> 
> Who is your favorit and why?
> 
> Please leave comments, I really like those and they're quite motivating.  
> I had a bit of a stop in regards of this story, because it didn't seem like anyone was reading it, and I can't seem to get it out into the fandom.  
> But then lo and behold, I woke up to a really nice message on 'The Crest of Merlin' and I knew I had to keep pushing with the sequel. I really adore the characters and I have so many ideas for the plot, but... yea, comments just really helps.
> 
> Thank you for reading.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait guys!  
> *Throws chapter like a piece of meat for the wolves*

Another piece of meat was picked from between his fingers, by a greedy beak.

Merlin #2 had placed herself upon his raised knees, scraping his poor kneecaps with her sharp talons, from time to time. Her dark eyes held a sharp stare toward his hand, as he took out another piece from the pouch he had borrowed from Kace.

She was a gorgeous brown, with light spots mingled in between like camouflage. She was also loud. Calling for her mate in the sky, that still had not decided to come down from his patrol, lazing about on gliding wings.

Blue-Merlin did not seem to mind that Virgil was keeping her company.

A sharp nip made him jerk his hand back from the predator. He glared right back at her, as she worked her talons in warning and ruffled her feathers.

“Yea, yea. Take it then” he mumbled gruffly, giving her the piece, which she swallowed immediately.

Merlin #2 squaked at him in a high pitched yell and took flight, giving up on luring her mate back to the birdhouse, that Virgil was leaning against. He huffed a small chuckle. If it could really be called that. More like a quick exhale to be honest.

The warm sun was overshadowed by heavy clouds, but the heat was still unbearable and he had taken to sit in a dark t-shirt instead of having the comfort of his hoodie. It was still nicely tucked into his bag, upstairs in his room.

No one had bothered coming out to talk to him. Not now at least.

He just had some things to figure out, and it had not helped that Kace had been hovering over him, much like Blue Merlin up in the sky.

It had been a couple of days since he met Patton and Logan again. He still had the phonetic, but it was hidden away underneath his pillow. It had not been used one single time, since he put it there, though he took it out to stare at it, a couple of times a day.

He did not really know what to do with it. He missed them, had missed them for years, so the logical solution would be to figure out how to call them. But then again…

Virgil leaned back against the post, bumping his head on the wood as he looked to the sky. The Merlins were gone.

What if he contacted them and they did not answer? What if Patton had only said it to be nice? What if they both hated him? Logan certainly already did. It was such a mess, and it did not help on his constant headache.

All of this drama, plus the pompous parties every night, mixed with informal meetings with English politicians, just made his mind blow up all the gods damn time, and he was tired of it.

He thought his scowl was showing more or less all the time, even though he tried to hide it behind a mask of indifference. At one of the meetings, Amhar had been there and actually pulled him aside to ask if he was okay.

“Yup, totally” he had said, downing the glass of firewhiskey he had bought in the bar. Amhar had frowned at him, when he had taken the empty glass, looking around for a second, before moving his face to Virgil’s level.

“You know, if everything’s still hard to deal with, my offer still stands”.

In Virgil’s hazy memory from that night, the other had looked… concerned. But it was not like it mattered, he just had some things to figure out after all.

Virgil shut his eyes tightly until all he saw was red instead of black.

‘Go sleep it off’ had been the grand idea coming from Fax, but fun fact, he could not sleep either!

Every time he closed his eyes to try, his mind either went haywire with thoughts in every direction or he saw the bearded man get killed again, and again, in a constant loop of pain and exhaustion.

He heard someone approach, before a chair scraped against the tiles, and a sigh leaving the person as they sat down heavily. They did not talk for a while, but he knew that they had placed themself right in front of him. He could feel their eyes.

“What?” he snapped, finally getting enough of their staring and opened his own to scowl right back.

Morvan shrugged.

“Guess we’re a bit worried for you-” he started.

“There’s nothing to worry about, I’m fine” Virgil told him, playing around with the pouce in his hands to avoid another one of these conversations.  
“Yes. Sure. Tell that to the eyebags kiddo” Morvan teased, making Virgil scoff. “We’ve been talking about if this whole ambassador thing is putting too much of a strain on you, and maybe you’re not quite ready for this yet, but… I guess, I mean, from what I saw the other night, you must have a lot more than politics on your mind.”

Virgil glanced up at him warily, to which Morvan held up his hands placatingly.

“I haven’t told anyone about that, I swear” he said. “But I think Kace is suspicious.”

Virgil looked away, glancing at the glittering pool water. A couple of leaves were floating on the surface.

“Virgil-”

“Just-” he held up a hand for silence. “Leave me alone, there’s nothing to be done about it, and I don’t want to talk about it.”

He stood up and began walking to the other side of the water, brushing past lily blossoms. Hummingbirds were flying in between the flowers, drinking the nectar greedily, not even minding the human passing by.

“I really think you should talk about it to someone, if not me then Kace at least. It’s not good bottling everything up, at some point you’ll have a breakdown and it will be hard getting back from tha-”

“Shut up” he hissed, hearing shoes scrape against the tiles as they moved closer.

“No, listen to me kid. I know what it’s like to deal with such things, and your negative attitude doesn’t help you in the slightest. You can’t ignore it” Morvan told him.

His tone pissed him off. What would he know? He had never been wandering outside the druidic communities. Heck, he was married and had little kids back in Amesbury. Life seemed to have dealt him a pretty great hand actually. And yet, here he was, preaching as if he knew anything at all.

“Leave” he gritted through clenched teeth, feeling his shoulders tense up and electricity humming.

“No, I-”

“Leave now you godsdamned piece of peasant shit! I command you to leave and you will fucking obey me!” he shrieked as he spun around, letting his eyes glow and lightening run through his palms, in a brilliant show of light.

He watched as Morvan flinched and carefully masked his surprise with indifference. He watched as the redhead stood straight and bowed formally before his lord. He watched as the other walked away, leaving him alone in all the colors of grey, the looming clouds brought with them.

All at once, his anger left him and his powers quickly fizzled out, together with the all encompassing and raw feeling of self-righteous dignity, leaving behind a consuming sense of emptiness in his gut and heart.

Virgil turned around to scoff at the ground, kicking some dirt in the flower patch. A couple of orange butterflies flew from their hiding places in the petals.

He squatted down, scrunching up his nose in disgust with himself.

Why should he feel guilty? He told him that he did not want to talk about it, and yet he kept pushing. Of course he would become mad! He was entitled to that feeling, it should basically be part of his introduction! ‘This is Virgil the Angry, descendant of the all-powerful and God-like Emrys the Immortal. Be careful with what you say or he’ll blow you up with his freakish storm powers!’

He let himself tip backwards and land on the tiles heavily with his butt. Virgil groaned and scrubbed his face in frustration.

Stupid.

He should probably apologies.

But he really did not want to.

Virgil did not know how long he sat outside, hidden away in the shadows of the brush. Sulking. No, not sulking. He was above that. Resentfully moody against the wrongdoings of the world.

Shoes scraped the ground.

He tensed up, tearing out some unlucky lush plant, and began picking at it and ripping it to pieces. Grumbling to himself, he already knew what was going to happen. Either Morvan had talked to Fax, or worse, Kace, and told them to bother him with their knowledge of how he was supposed to behave, instead of coming to fix the foundation of the problem.

Well… Morvan had tried that, he guessed, but that did not matter!

“Why is it, that when I’m working these days, I always seem to find myself right in the middle of your problems?”

Virgil spun around so fast, his vision swam for a bit.

Jake came waltzing by the side of the pool, glancing at the water with interest. He had pulled off his auror robe, letting them hang from his arm like a rich shadow. his slacks were dark, but his t-shirt was gleaming with its off white coloring against the tan of his skin.

Virgil looked away, standing up and dusted himself off. Might as well save what dignity he had left.

“Why are you here?” he muttered, removing some invisible dust specks from his shirt. His cheeks heating up slowly.

Jake sat down at the poolside, taking off his shoes and socks to show off his sun-shy legs. He dipped them in the chilling water with a sigh, swishing his legs back and forth in a slow rhythm.

Virgil waited for a bit. Watching the blonde play around with the water and looking to the sky with closed eyes and a small smile upon his lips.

He huffed, feeling hot all of the sudden, so he decided to sit down beside the other and pulled up his own pant legs, with a bit more difficulty but managing at last. The water felt nice. Cool and smooth as it flowed around his ghostly legs, as he moved them to the same rhythm Jake was, right next to him.

“Morvan called for you, didn’t he” he stated, after a minute or two.

Jake hummed lowly. “Apparently he thought that I knew what to do, when someone, such as yourself, wants to kill everyone around him, because of some extraordinary temper he has difficulty taming.”

He felt the stupid look Jake was giving the side of his head, but he was too busy scowling down at his submerged toes.

A bigger foot moved over to slowly kick at his ankle. Wanting attention.  
“Hey” Jake said. “You want to get out of here?”

 

Even with the grey of the sky, the colors of the world surrounding them were as bright as ever. The dusted yellow of the tall building, the restaurant was placed in, gave the idea of constant sunshine, even though the weather was not that agreeable.

The tablecloths were white, almost blinding, and the comfortable chairs were pillowed with a moss green. The outside was covered with the same snow graded color as the coverings of the tables, with the overhang of breezingly light fabrics.

They had placed themselves by the edge of the outside of the restaurant. A gathering of vines supported by a small iron fence, making a half wall between the guests and the rest of the square.

Virgil was picking a bit at his carbonara, eating bits and pieces of the delicious pasta from time to time, before trying to stop his grin from evolving, when he would look back up at the struggles Jake was going through.

The blonde had asked for a pizza. Nothing wrong with that of course. They found themselves in Italy after all, and Jake had not had the time to enjoy some of the well known cuisines of the country.

The waiter had looked quite offended once he had rattled off his order. She had stood with their notebook as if ready to slap some sense into him, eyes wide and nose scrunched with disgust. Jake had not found anything unusual of it, since he had been looking at the menu and Virgil during the whole ordeal. It was first once their food arrived, that he had seemed to get it. Face stunned and closed off quickly.

The chef had not bothered cutting the pineapple into small pieces to strew upon the pizza, and had instead made the choice to throw four or five big, circular pieces unto it, with so much creamy cheese on top, that Jake did not have a chance against it. There was nothing to do other than man up and look like a pig that had no idea how to control, let alone eat a pizza, without letting everything either fall off or balance dangerously in his hands.

Virgil almost snorted out his pasta, when Jake struggled with a long string of cheese and the piece of pineapple that was grabbing at it like a lifeline, fell into his lap.

“Don’t fucking laugh” Jake growled through clenched teeth, glare dialed up to one hundred.

He lost it at that, and had to put his fork down and hide his mouth by looking down and covering his face with a hand.

“I’m sorry!” he chuckled, wheezing harder when he heard Jake mutter indescribably. “I’m sorry, okay. I’m sorry.” He took a couple of deep breaths before glancing up, hand still covering his mouth.

Jake had given up on the pizza, cleaning his mouth and cheeks with the candy striped handcloth. The pineapple laid on his plate like a circular symbol of defeat.

Virgil snorted like a happy pig.

“I’m glad you find this amusing” Jake snarked sarcastically, throwing the metaphorical towel in the ring, with a slap of the handcloth upon the table. “I guess it’s better than sulking behind flower bushes, to avoid having to interact with the people you live with.”

Well that was not fun. Virgil huffed and leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms and looking the picture perfect sullen child.

“Just like that!” the blonde pointed out, giving his own vicious grin at the sight of Virgil’s misery. He leaned over, hands coming to rest flat at on top of the table. “How come you’re so pissed? Didn’t it go well with the Huff Puff?”

“The-” Virgil looked up in shock from the elegant hands on his side of the table. “I thought you didn’t remember him?”

Jake shrugged. “Not really. He’s a bit familiar and I remembered a bit afterwards, but I can’t remember anything else about him to be honest” he said, before knocking a fist in the wood. “But enough of that, you’re avoiding my question.”

Virgil looked away. Watching the atmosphere of the plaza, where people were mingling and passing by to get other places. There were restaurants and cafés all around, with tables and chairs sat outside in the fresh weather, much like this one.

“You didn’t call. Did you?”

He sideeyed the other with narrowed eyes.

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t” Jake told him, sitting back and crossing his arms. Regarding him seriously. “But if it’s making you irrational as all hell, you should probably do it. You’ve never been a smiley kinda person, but damn. I never thought you would scare the crap out of people.”

“You don’t know anything, so stop thinking you do!” he hissed back, turning to meet his eyes head on.

“Hey!” Jake snarled, pointing aggressively at him. “I might not be some hotshot politician, but don’t you dare think to intimidate me with that bullshit attitude! I’m not scared of you.”

Virgil felt his magic wash through him, and had to consciously hold back the golden glow of his eyes. Jake did not know anything about the extent to his powers or his placement in the Druidic society. If he did, would he challenge him then? Try to take him down from the pedestal he had been placed upon?

“Why?”

“Why what?” Jake asked, eyes suspicious.

“Why aren’t you scared?”

Jake huffed, brows flying high disbelief, gesturing to Virgil in front of him.

“You’re a twink with some minor anger management issues. It’s laughable if you get scared at that.”

“A what?”

The blonde waved him off, taking a deep breath. They sat for a bit in peace, calming down. Virgil started messing with his carbonara again, though not eating anything. He had definitely lost his appetite.

Everything was such a mess. There were so many things, if he wanted to talk it all through, he had to go to multiple people, and it was not necessary possible to do that. If he wanted to talk about his political position, he could go to Kace or Fax. Kace would probably be the best choice, since Fax would most likely go to his mother, and he would have taken his position from him.

If he wanted to talk about the confusing vision about the man with the beard, he could go to Elethea, since she handled his seer training, but that was not going to happen.

He could talk to Jake about Logan and Patton, but would he really care? Would he be able to understand the position he was in? How it was possible that he might not be able to come back? It would raise too many questions and Jake would probably not like knowing that.

If he-  
If he wanted to talk about Roman… He could not do that with the druids. Neither Jake, it did not feel right. The best bet would be Patton but-

It was such a mess.

Virgil groaned, messing up his bangs with a hand.

“V, listen” Jake moved forward, taking the hand that was not clutching his poor hair painfully. Virgil felt his heart beat out of rhythm at the touch. Jake’s brows had fallen down into a serious line above his piercing eyes. “This whole situation is clearly stressing you out” he started, pausing to think shortly. “If you want- I mean… I can be there if you need someone you feel comfortable with. When you meet up with them.”

“I don’t think I should see them again” Virgil said quietly, cringing when he felt his hand being squeezed harder than necessary.

“Why not?” Jake asked.

“Uhm.” Oh shit, his voice was shaking. He tried clearing it, covering it up with a cough and pulled his hand back, to fiddle with the loose strings on his sleeve. Jake let him go gently.

He took a deep breath before continuing. “I don’t think they want to see me.”

Jake snorted, making Virgil glance up for a second before avoiding his eyes again. Avoiding the fact that he knew Jake had most likely seen the glaze of his eyes.

“That’s stupid” the blonde told him frankly. “I was there. I saw the Huff Puff snotting all over your robe. He practically begged you to conta- call him!”

“But, what if he just pretended?”

“Then you’re stupid.”

Virgil grunted in annoyance, but choosing not to fight him on it. He knew it was stupid, but he could not help thinking it. His heart was beating so hard he couple feel it in his temples, and in his fingertips that were shaking slightly, just by the very thought of having to make the call.

He heard Jake sigh. glancing up to see him point to a waiter.

Once the bill was paid, courtesy of Jake since he was that fast, they left the restaurant and began their trek back to the house. None of them wanted to apparate to the front of the street, instead wanting to enjoy a calming walk in the steadily darker weather, with fewer people wandering about, than there had been the previous days.

Jake looked calm. Collected. He would have thought that since he had such a pale appearance, he would easily come out of the day with an ugly-looking sunburn. Instead he had this handsome golden tint to his skin. The blonde of the hairs upon his arms, shining like little pieces of straws in the summer.

It was… nice.

It was nice just walking with him, Virgil could not help but think. It was nice that the usual pressure of talking, was not there. With the silence, came the thoughts though. Even if he would rather use the whole walk admiring the view of one Jake McLoughlin, he could not help but keep thinking back on the phonetic in his room.

He should probably call him. He would do it, he would. Right when he got back.  
But, what if Patton did not want to talk anyway? What about the uncertainty of him ever returning again? What if Logan took it instead and yelled at him? What if no one took it? Would he be happy about that?

Maybe he should call tomorrow.

“Stop that” Jake said suddenly. Virgil almost jumped at the sudden voice. They stopped by the front entrance of his street, Jake stepping from foot to foot and looking back at him from where his gaze had been placed upon the house previously.

“It won’t help you if you keep thinking about it, just go do it. Call him or whatever or… however that works” he thought that he heard him mumble something about ‘muggle piece of crap’. But then the icy stare was back on him, and he straightened up a bit, feeling like he wanted to avoid the sharp gaze as heat gathered in his face.

“It’s better than dwelling on it. Like ripping-”

“Like ripping of a bandaid. Yes I know” Virgil told him, watching as a satisfied smirk gathered on the other’s face.

“I’m glad something’s at least a little logical in that hollow head of yours” Jake grinned.

Yea, yea, he thought. If only it was that easy. He turned toward the house, willing himself to walk, but his legs would not move. Jake seemed to take notice of that, since a moment later he had laid his hand on his back, stroking him comfortingly.

“I can come with you, if you want” he suggested again, but Virgil shook his head. He bit his lip carefully, gnawing unconsciously as he kept staring forward anxiously. A slight nip with a couple of fingers at his back, made him turn slightly toward Jake, who watched him carefully.

“What’s holding you back? I’ve told you he wasn’t pretending” he said.

It is not just that. What if this was the last time he could see them? it would only end in another heartbreak. A thought then struck him, making him feel a slight pain in his heart. What if this was the last time he saw Jake? From what he could gather, his last disappearance act had been quite the traumatic experience to him.

“What? Why do you look constipated?” Jake asked. Should he tell him?

“I’m-” he tried, but something caught in his throat and he had to look away. “What?” Jake asked again, this time coming to stand in front of him. He took a deep breath, looking at the ground.

“I- … I mean, last time- I… we-” he sighed. He could not do it.

Virgil looked up. Jake’s brow was furrowed in suspicious confusion. If he had thought he would be this friendly with his former roommate, back when they lived under the same roof, he would have cackled evilly at himself and his delusional daydreams. He was kind of glad that he had met him again. He hoped that this would not be the last time. He could not for the life of him get himself to say goodbye.

He would meet up with him before they left, he would make sure it. With that decision made, he worked up a small smile and shook his head, only furthering the deep furrows in Jake’s forehead.

“It’s nothing” he told him, moving around to step through the invisible barrier between them and unto his street. “I’ll let you know when I’ve called him.”

“You sure?” he heard him questioning. Virgil only turned around to send a quick smirk backwards. Jake stood right at the beginning of the street, half a step more and he would be zapped with the protective spells that was in place.

He turned back, moving up the steps to the front door, taking one last look to the black clouds covering the sky, before he stepped inside and let the constant stare on his back slip away.

 

The phone lit up again, showing Patton’s and Gaia’s sleepy faces with a birds nests of curls all around. The light dimmed, and the screen disappeared, taking the non-moving picture with it. He pushed the button again, watching as the picture came back one more time.  
He had no idea how long he had been laying in bed. When he came back, he had gone straight to his room, an aura of ‘do-no-disturb’ surrounding him as he had passed the others on his way.

No one had called for him. Even though he knew there had been a meeting between them and the Scandinavian Volvan representatives this evening. A meeting discussing the possibility of adding their Old Magic communities to the Joined Magical Society deal.

The sky was dark now and had been for a while. It would be so easy falling asleep, but his fingers kept pushing the button automatically, and the screen would light up his room time and time again.

Virgil kept trying to call, but everytime he saw the picture in the phonetic, he could not make himself go further. He could not even say that he did not remember the code, since it was just Patton’s birthday and that was easy. He would not forget that kind of date.

He let his arm fall to his side and scoffed up at the ceiling. Why was this so difficult? Jake was right, he was being stupid. It was not even like he was doubting Patton anymore, he more than likely was chickening out because he did not want to be confronted with the choices he had made and how it had clearly affected his early friendships.

A door slammed from downstairs, making Virgil jump in his bed, pulse overworked like a hummingbirds’. He could hear the voices of the others and he slowly started calming down again. He was on the brink of growing angry again, though kept himself on the side of irritation with a lot of stubbornness.

They were speaking loudly, if he would not think it ridiculous he would say Kace was yelling at Fax. They moved around, coming closer to the staircase than before and if he strained his ears he could make out some of the sentences.

“- serious? There’s too much pressure. Elethea should have chosen a smaller scale job for him to start out on, like a political meeting at the Ministry or digging through the historical artifacts in the Department of Mysteries!” Kace’s voice loudly exclaimed. “That would probably have been a better idea, since he could also get to work out some of his ancestral questions. Those pompous, new age, carnival magicians have been looting our history for too many years anyway.”

“That’s a side note” Morvan helpfully quipped.

“We are not going home and that’s final! We have too much work to do, and I know he can handle a week more, until we have worked out the last deals.”

Virgil jumped out bed, throwing away his blanket violently as it tangled with his legs. He could not believe this was happening all over again.

“Shouldn’t we ask Virgil what he thinks?” Böli’s voice sounded.

He stopped by the door, leaning his head upon the surface and listened carefully.

“He’s too high strung right now” Kace said lowly. “We all know he’s here to prove that he’s capable in being in the outside world. I don’t think he will make the right decision for himself.”

“But if he thinks he can do it, shouldn’t we let him try?” Morvan exclaimed.

“Not if he’s putting his own mental health at risk! This is getting out of hand and we all know it! Either he’ll decide to go home and get some control on his nature again, or we’ll have to take the control by force.”

His breath hitched and he felt his body slid down the door to land quietly on the floor. How could she. Virgil rested his face in his hands, bending over better hide away from everything. Of all the druids he had come to know, Kace had been the one who, while reprimanding, had always been by his side and now she… How could she do this to him? Take control? She wanted to control him too?!

His throat clenched painfully and his eyes stung, but he thought nothing of it. Everyone was out to get him, he was sure of it now. They only wanted his power. His magic. The only reason he was with the druids was because of his fucking ancestral line.

Virgil looked scathingly at the ring stuck on his finger, the hawk glaring right back at him. He went to take it off, not wanting anything to do with any of this anymore. He just wanted to be left alone, wanted to have his own life and people he could trust.

There had to be someone. Wait. Before he could pull off the ring, he changed his mind and quickly stood, striding over to his bed and picked up the phonetic, pushing the button and letting the screen light up again.

He punched in the numbers, his nails clicking loudly on the surface. A lot of boxes appeared and he scouted the surface for a bit, trying to figure out what to do now. Where was the envelope? He did not have time for this! In the bottom left corner he found a figure of something he had seen before. He punched it and a lot of names appeared on the screen.

Virgil exhaled a breath he did not know he had been holding, and he started scrolling down the list of people, looking for Gaia and the hearts.  
There were hearts everywhere.

Next to every other name there were hearts in yellow, blue, green and red colors. Well except for one. Some guy named Andrea, he had a frowning smiley. It was probably meant to show Patton’s version of anger.

Finally he found the name he had been looking for and he quickly punched the icon, watching as the screen suddenly turned dark with new figures and an annoying sound coming out of it. The tone kept holding, pausing for a bit before restarting again and again.

Virgil looked to the door, where the voices still sound from the other side. He could not make out the words anymore, but he could here Fax’s baritone voice clearly as it mixed with the hoarse one of Kace. He did not want.. No, he knew why they wanted him to go home, in a way he also wanted to, he was too tired but he also had important things to do.

The sound of a shrill tone scared the crap out of him and he looked down at the screen in his hand, his heart hammering in his chest.

“Hi! This is Gaia, leave a message and I’ll call you back as quick as a flash!”

Another louder tone sounded and numbers started moving. Virgil was so confused. He lead the phone closer to his face and stared carefully as the numbers climbed to the minute mark. Was she in the phonetic? Is this how he should write or does it work like a painting? Why were she not talking? Should he start?

He cleared his throat.

“Ehm… Hello?” he mumbled. “Is Patton there?”

The numbers disappeared and the screen went completely dark. Virgil was sure that this was not meant to happen and he tried pushing the button, but nothing appeared or reacted to anything he did. He even tried shaking it in a hectic rhythm but to no avail.

This was not happening!

Footsteps sounded on the stairs, making him hold his breath. The steps continued until they stopped on the other side of his door. The voices had died down and he came to the conclusion that everyone were on their way to bed. Except for the person lingering outside his door.

He did not wish to talk to them, he could guess who it was by the way they did not make another sound, just standing with their still shadow marking the floor in dark spots underneath the door.

He held his breath, holding the phonetic tightly to his chest and his attention a hundred percent on the person on the other side. After a long half minute, the feet moved away and the shadows disappeared from view. The neighbouring door closed.

Virgil released his breath in one great gust as he threw himself unto his bed, grasping at his hair in desperation.

How was he supposed to contact Patton now?! Even if he got permission to contact him, a muggleborn, he did not know if they had a floo network connected to their room or wherever the hell they were staying. He did not even know if they had apparated to Rome or if they lived here!

Virgil turned around, facing the dead phonetic beside his pillow. Screen still as dark and void filled as before. How was he supposed to-? Was this it?

He screwed his eyes tight, not wanting to cry pathetically over something he could not do anything about. But the tears came nevertheless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment or two!  
> I'd love to hear what you think.


	5. Author's Note

Hi guys.

Author's notes are never really a good sign, but I wanted to let you know.

First of: I'm not abandoning the story, but I will put it on break for some time. I don't know how long.

Thing is: I love the characters and the plotlines I have in my head, but I'm not feeling inspired, and frankly, not that into Sanders Sides anymore. I don't know if it's because of the little content on that part, or not much exposure to Virgil boi, or if it's because this fandom is really hard to break through when you're unknown, but at the moment I'm not feeling it.

And since I can't find inspiration, what I write becomes literal crap that I can't 'feel', and that's why I'm going on hiatus with this one.

I've chosen to write on another fic, (BNHA, Kiribaku (Hell yea)) since it makes me motivated about writing.

I'll return at some point.

See you guys, and thanks for the support.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> i don't have a particular schedule for uploading the chapters, since I'm really busy in real life.  
> Just know that I'm always writing when I've got the time, so keep a look out or subscribe, so you'll be ready for the updates.
> 
> Also! Thanks again to Alexxxbifangirlll for being my beta yet again, you're awesome!
> 
> I'm putting together a playlist for the story, where a new song will be added with each chapter.
> 
> Playlist:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pEFxfVyz4Uc&list=PLFZqzIR8tuAxbiwBBD35aOqMMxB7A8IwW


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